Hello
by OldMondlerLover
Summary: Mondler AU. It's been three years since Chandler left. He's with someone new, but true love never dies and for Monica it has never faded away. This is an angsty result (and tribute, I hope) to Adele's album "25," especially "Hello." Enjoy! *COMPLETE*
1. Chapter 1

"Hello there," Rachel said, barely glancing up from the mail she was going though as Monica walked in the door.

"Hey," she said, hanging up her jacket and gesturing at the stack in her roommate's hands. "Anything interesting?"

"Nah," Rachel sighed, throwing the pile of bills and fliers on the kitchen table, "but there was a phone message."

Monica's eyes lit up for just a moment, before the light disappeared again as she realized who probably called.

"It was Eric again, wasn't it?" she asked, a hint of weariness creeping into her voice.

"Yep," Rachel crossed her arms and cocked her head at her friend. "That's the third time in as many days."

"I know," Monica sighed with a wave of her hand. She turned and landed heavily on the sofa. Rachel came to sit next to her.

"Come on, he's a nice guy, Mon, and cute," she said. "Maybe a little needy…"

Monica smirked at her and Rachel smirked back.

"Yeah," Monica conceded, shrugging. "I dunno. I just…I'm just not feeling it, ya know?"

Rachel watched as Monica's head fell and she became very interested in the lint on her pants, picking off one hair-thin strand after another. She sighed and took her hand.

"I know," she said softly with a downward grin, giving Monica's hand a gentle squeeze. Monica smiled sadly at her and then cleared her throat.

She took a deep breath.

"So, I think I forgot to tell you that I'm going out of town for a few days next week," she said carefully. "Cory wants me to attend this entrepreneur conference before we open the restaurant next month."

"Oh," Rachel said, sitting back on the sofa. "How long will you be gone?"

Monica smirked playfully at her.

"Tuesday night to Saturday afternoon," she said. "You and your boy toy can have the place all to yourselves for a few days."

"Tag is not my boy toy," Rachel blushed, thinking of her young off-and-on boyfriend. "Well, maybe a little."

"Ha!" Monica said, with a roll of her eyes.

"Honestly though, Mon," she said, "with all the hours you've put in preparing to get Javu off the ground, it's like we've had the place to ourselves a lot already."

"Are you complaining?" Monica scolded, raising her eyebrows.

"No!" Rachel said with a smile. "It just seems you've been…gone a lot lately."

Monica shrugged. She stood up and waked into the kitchen, grabbing an apple out of the bowl in the center of the table before she spoke again.

"I takes a lot of work to get a place like Javu ready for prime time," she said, walking through the living room toward her bedroom to change clothes.

Rachel widened her eyes then shook her head. She let out a sigh as she stood up and began to gather up the discarded mail for the trash.

"Guess so," she mumbled to herself, then added in a louder voice so Monica could hear in the bedroom. "So where is this conference? Someplace cool I hope."

Monica closed her eyes and froze, wondering if it was a good idea to tell Rachel where she was going on her business trip. She hadn't decided herself if the other activity she planned while she was there was a good idea or not. She was leaning towards "yes" and wasn't sure if she wanted anyone else's input on her thought process.

She was sure one negative comment could potentially destroy what little courage she had to go through with it.

"Mon?" Rachel asked as she came into the doorway. "Where's the conference?"

Monica, who had her back to her, began to re-button the buttons she'd just undone on her blouse with suddenly unsteady fingers.

"Um," she said quietly, nervously clearing her throat again, "northern California."

Rachel's jaw dropped and she narrowed her eyes.

" _Where_ in northern California?" she demanded softly. Monica straightened her shoulders and took a deep breath before turning to her friend, trying her best to radiate confidence and seem unaffected by the disclosure.

"San Francisco," she said, looking directly at Rachel, who was momentarily rendered speechless.

"Monica…" Rachel finally breathed, concern clouding her face.

Monica crossed her arms and stuck out her chin, her decision made in that split second of doubt Rachel was throwing her way.

"Yes," she said, answering Rachel's unasked question. "I plan to see him."

"You do?!" Rachel gasped, stepping further into the room.

"Yes."

"Does he…does he know you're coming?"

Monica's resolve faltered just a touch.

"No," she admitted, lowering her eyes and pulling her crossed arms tight against her chest.

"Monica…." Rachel started, walking toward her and placing a hand on her arm. "Honey, do you think this is a good idea?"

"I…"

"It's been such a…long time, I mean," Rachel said, tentatively. "I mean, have you even…you haven't even had a conversation with him since…since…have you?"

"No, I haven't and I think that's my problem," she snapped, suddenly on the defensive.

Quickly she launched into all the reasons why she thought her reasoning was sound. "I can't…I can't move on with…Eric or…or anyone else until we've…talked. We need to air it all out, ya know, everything that happened…then. I can…it's…it's about me getting some closure, finally…"

Rachel watched Monica become more and more animated as she kept speaking and tears filled her eyes.

"Mon…Mon," she said, trying to calm her down, trying to find some way of talking her out of what she seemed determined to do. "You could…maybe you should…call him first. You know, I mean, he's been in touch with Joey and…"

"Call him?" Monica interrupted, a touch of anger in her voice. "Rachel, I swear I have called him a thousand times…"

"Well, maybe that's your answer."

"No!" Monica said hotly, then added in a calmer voice. "No. It's time. Look, I'm…I'm over him, OK?"

"Oh, Mon," Rachel said, unconvinced.

"I am," Monica said emphatically. "It's been three years. I just…if we can maybe…I don't know…talk and at least be... _congenial_ to each other I think…I think that's all I need to…ya know…really move on."

Rachel shook her head. This was a terrible idea. She was convinced Monica's only saving grace all this time was the fact that her ex-boyfriend now lived all the way across the country.

"Sweetie," she said, putting both hands on the sides of Monica's arms, looking directly into her eyes. Nope, she didn't believe for one second she was over him. None of them did.

"OK, say this works out. Say you can get in touch with him and see him, have you thought about how that would make you feel?" Rachel asked. "Have you thought about what it would be like to actually _see_ him again?"

She looked unbelieving at Rachel then diverted her eyes. Had she thought about it? _Had she thought about it?!_ Only every day for the last three years. It had taken her this long, it had taken this particular opportunity that presented itself, to think she was even strong enough to handle it.

"And what if _he_ has moved on with someone?" Rachel continued gently, the thought of Monica going through that pain breaking her heart.

That possibility, which was more than likely a reality and why she hadn't heard a word from him, was one Monica wasn't sure she was prepared for. She swallowed hard, her eyes watering as her shoulders slumped a little.

"I don't know," she whispered, squeezing her eyes closed, "but I've gotta try… _something._ I've gotta do… _something._ "

"Oh, Mon," Rachel said softly, pulling her in for a hug. Monica let Rachel hold her for a moment, then stepped back and wiped a lone tear from her cheek.

"And if he…if he is with someone new, maybe that's it," she said, her throat thick. "Maybe that's what I…need to see. Maybe that…gives me my closure."

Rachel sadly shook her head.

"Maybe," Rachel said, running her hand down the side of Monica's hair, looking into her sad face. "But, oh, that could be so painful..."

To her surprise, Monica laughed.

"Nothing," she said, fighting back her tears, shaking her head. "Nothing could be as painful as what I've already been through."

She stepped over to her dresser and pulled a tissue out of the box. She wiped her eyes then blew her nose as she glanced back at Rachel through the reflection of her mirror.

"Nothing," she sighed.

###

Chandler's eyes left his old cell phone just long enough to scan the front of the building. The breeze from the open windows of his sedan ran through his short hair as he sat parked along the curb line.

Seeing no activity yet, his gaze drifted back to the device in his hand. His thumb hit the tiny little arrows as he scrolled through screen after screen of old voicemails, searching for one specific date or another, knowing them all by heart.

He found one and hit "listen."

 _Hey, it's me. I wanted to remind you to pick up some boxes from the warehouse, the one that called back yesterday? Don't get too many big ones, we need some small ones, too. We have a lot to organize! OK. OK, you got that, right? I know, I'm sorry! I'm just so excited! I love you!_

He closed his eyes, listening to the message again - listening to the "happy" in her voice as they prepared to move in together after Vegas. He pressed "save" then began to scroll again. Choosing one from six months later…

 _Hey. Listen, OK, I forgive you. I mean, I didn't even make you that crappy sock bunny. I'm sorry, I just…her voice just cuts right through me, ya know? I know you know what I mean, right? Listen, let's make up tonight. Whatta say we give that bunny another go around (giggles). I love you, Chandler._

Then, another, six months later…her voice strained, crying. His eyes always watered when he listened this particular voicemail.

 _Goddammit! Where are you?! Everyone's worried about you! Please at least call Joey, call someone! I know you don't want to talk to me. OK? I know that, but please call someone, please, Chandler! (silence, then a strangled whisper) Chandler? Where are you?!_

Chandler swallowed, blinking back the tears that came to his eyes whenever he did this to himself, whenever he pulled out the old phone no one ever called him on anymore. Some days, he just needed to hear her voice. Most of those days, he didn't even understand why.

His head shot up as he heard the shrill ringing of a bell coming from inside the building. He quickly turned off the phone, opened the glove compartment and tucked it safely inside, hidden under random receipts and the car's owner's manual.

He opened the driver's side door, smoothing down his tie as he came around and leaned against the passenger door on the other side, his eyes scanning the throngs of people now exciting the building. He crossed his arms over his chest as he waited, then he grinned.

When she caught his eye, her face broke into a bright smile and she started running toward him.

"Yay!" she shrieked, dark auburn pigtails bouncing against the straps of her bright pink Hello Kitty backpack as she hurdled herself at him.

"Whoa, there, Pumpkin Girl!" he said, hoisting the giggling preschooler up into his arms.

"You picked me up for two days!" she said excitedly, a look of pure happiness on her face.

"Yes, ma'am," he said, giving her a smile and a little squeeze. "Which two days, do you know?"

He waved to her teacher then turned to open the door to the backseat as she scrunched up her nose, trying to remember what she'd learned about days of the week.

"Saturday!" she said, triumphantly.

"Nope, that's tomorrow," he responded, as he strapped her into her car seat.

"Um, Monday?" she said, a little less sure of herself this time.

"Nope," he said, bouncing his index finger off her freckled nose, chuckling as he watched her light brown eyes cross as he did so. "Thurrr…."

"Thursday and… today!" she said, giving him a smug little smile.

"Close enough," he grinned at her. He moved back and started to straighten up when she grabbed his tie.

"I wanna show you!" she picked up the little backpack Chandler had set next to her and almost reverently unzipped its only pocket. She pulled out her latest preschool craft.

"What is it, Sadie?" he asked, as he crouched down and looked at the brown lump in her hands.

She excitedly slipped it onto her little hand.

"A sock puppet!" she said, practically bouncing against her seatbelt. "I made a doggie! His name is Ralph."

Chandler stared at the disjointed button-face creation with floppy ears, fighting every emotion from the past that came thundering back into his heart.

"I used glue for his eyes," she continued, oblivious, "all by myself!"

Finally he turned his gaze from Ralph to her innocent, three-year-old face and gave her a little grin.

"He's very cute, Sades," he said, then cleared his throat. "You did a great job."

She gave him a huge smile.

"OK, let's get you and Ralph home," he said, preparing to shut her door. "Your Mom will be off work soon…"

But Sadie was so engrossed in her new playmate she didn't hear him.

He closed her door, glancing through the window at the glove compartment as he did so. He pushed both palms against the top of his car and tilted his head back, looking blankly at the sky. Then he took a deep breath, pushed off the roof of the sedan and walked over to the driver's side - preparing to guide his precious cargo home through the winding streets of San Francisco.

 _ **NOTE: Hello. It's me. ;)**_

 _ **I swore I'd never break them up. Well…you can blame Adele.**_

 _ **PS - I've been a crappy fanfiction reader/reviewer lately, I apologize. New job is awesome, but BUSY. This wouldn't leave me be, though, so here I am…again. Updates will be**_ **very** _ **slow, so I apologize for that, too…**_

 _ **Hope you stick with it, though. :)**_


	2. Chapter 2

Monica snapped her seatbelt into place and raised the plastic shade on the airplane's little window. She took a deep breath and let it out, slowly.

She wished she could keep her mind on the conference, the reason she was headed to the west coast in the first place, but she couldn't.

Before flipping her Blackberry to "off" for the flight, she looked at the contacts list one more time. It had taken some begging to get his number from Joey. She knew he'd had Chandler's new cell phone number for a while, but she never asked for it. For a long time she'd decided if he was determined to pretend she didn't exist, pretend "they" never existed, then she was, too. If he didn't want to talk to her then she didn't want to talk to him.

Only she did, desperately - and no matter how long her previous voicemails went unanswered, no matter how much time had passed, that feeling had never gone away.

She told Joey she missed having Chandler as her friend - that she thought enough time had passed that she hoped they could at least be friends again. He was skeptical, but that's the argument that finally convinced Joey to give her Chandler's number. He wanted that, too. Of all her friends, Joey missed the way the gang used to be most of all.

Joey and Rachel were the only two who had an inkling she planned to contact Chandler during her time in San Francisco. She didn't tell Phoebe or Ross. She knew Phoebe, in no uncertain terms, would tell her she shouldn't do it. Ross would have tried to forbid her. He was still the most upset with Chandler for never having contacted his sister after he left, leaving her in a state that had scared him to death at the time.

It had scared them all.

At first they were full of platitudes, all saying one version or another of "he'll come back" or "it will get easier." She knew now they were just saying that to try to make not only her but themselves feel better. They all missed him, they were all worried about him. Only Joey had initially treated her differently, keeping her at a distance when the chaos and confusion were fresh for them all. But at one time or another she was sure she saw blame in each of their eyes when they looked at her.

Those first few months after he left had been the most brutal of her life. She was angry at him for leaving, she was angry at herself for letting him go, but more than anything else she was worried sick. From May to almost October no one knew where he'd gone, whether he was alive or dead. More than once she'd wake up screaming his name. More than once she thought she was losing her mind.

She'd talked more to Nora and Charles Bing during that time than she ever thought possible, worrying them to the point that Nora cancelled the rest of her European book tour and came to New York to check on her. She even stomached weekly phone calls from his old boss, Doug, who despite all the teasing really thought of him as a son.

Her own mother stayed with her for two weeks that June, when it was clear she was getting worse, not better. She held her when she cried at night, made everyone breakfast when she couldn't get out of bed the next day, and surprisingly never once criticized her for the actions that led to her boyfriend leaving her.

It had been several months now since she'd woken up in the middle of the night, in a cold sweat, reaching out for him. It had been well more than a year since she told anyone about her nightmares anymore. While her friends were all loving, and supportive, she could tell when their eyes started to glaze over for the hundredth time. Yet, no one ever came out and explicitly told her it was her fault.

But it was her fault.

Maybe not all of it, but the part that hurt him the most and pushed him to leave her rested squarely on her shoulders. She was the one who put their name down for an eventual wedding at the museum without talking to him first. She was the one who bristled when his behavior after that debacle turned childish and more immature than it had been for years. Instead of weathering the storm, and showing him the support he needed when he planned a romantic dinner out for them a few weeks later, she went and invited Richard to sit with them.

Richard.

Monica closed her eyes and looked out at the condensation growing on the window of the jet as it passed through the clouds. She swallowed the bile that had risen in her throat as she thought about that awkward dinner together - the one where Richard had flirted and quoted poetry and she'd giggled and flung her hair. Chandler had barely talked to her on the way home, except to quip that he was sorry he and Richard's date had ruined their evening together. That's when it all started to fall apart…

 _"Maybe I should start quoting Shakespeare or something," he said sarcastically as he took off his tie and hung it in the closet when they got home._

 _"You're making a big deal out of nothing," she said, becoming severely annoyed as she pulled out her earrings._

 _"Could you_ be _more flirty with him?!" he asked, rhetorically. "Why did you invite them to sit with us?"_

 _"Because,_ I thought _, we were all adults and you could handle one dinner with the man," she shot back at him. "Clearly, I was wrong."_

 _"I guess you were," he said, flinging his jacket on the bed and kicking his shoes off across the floor. Her eyes followed them, her nostrils flaring. "Maybe I should call up Kathy and invite her to brunch."_

 _"Maybe," she said, seething. "Then I can tell her she was right when she said you needed to grow up!"_

 _With that he shot her a look, grabbed a pillow and left the bedroom, slamming the door behind him…_

The next day Richard showed up in her kitchen at Alessandro's, declaring his love and wanting to get married and have babies with her. She'd been floored and confused. That's what she wanted, but she wanted it with Chandler, not with Richard.

She'd wanted to talk to Chandler, but he was still angry about the night before. She'd called his office three times and he'd dodged her calls. Finally she'd talked - mainly cried - to Rachel, who told her to go home and wait for Chandler to get home from work. So she did, for three hours. It was after 8 p.m. when Richard called her cell and asked her if they could talk.

And instead of saying "no," she said "yes" and left for his apartment.

As the story goes, a story that still sent a stabbing pain through Monica's heart whenever she thought of it, Chandler and Joey went to a Knicks game that night so Chandler could blow off some steam. He called home at halftime, ready to talk to his girlfriend and clear the air. When she didn't answer he called her cell, then he called Rachel.

Rachel panicked and told Chandler what Richard had done, and that Monica had been waiting for him to come home to talk him. By the time Rachel hung up the phone Chandler was racing out of the basketball arena, mad as hell, ready to give Richard a piece of his mind and determined to find Monica. Joey didn't even know he'd left the game until Rachel called him in tears 10 minutes later, when Chandler wouldn't answer his cell.

Monica placed a palm over her mouth and closed her eyes tight as she recalled the exact second Chandler charged into Richard's apartment. She'd been thinking she should leave, thinking it had been a bad idea to be there in the first place. She'd spent almost an hour with Richard, becoming increasingly uncomfortable as she went on lamenting the status of her current relationship with her ex-boyfriend.

When she stood to go he pulled her to him for a hug and for a moment, just because it felt good to let someone else be strong, she let him hold her. He mistook her intentions and when she lifted her head to say goodbye he crashed his lips onto hers.

She was so startled she grabbed onto his shirt in shock, and in the next second she heard Chandler say "oh my God" from the doorway…

 _"Chandler!" Monica yelled, freeing her skirt as it got caught on the revolving door to Richard's building as she ran after him. "Chandler!"_

 _He stopped and dropped his head, then turned to her._

 _"What?!" he asked hotly. "What's left to say?"_

 _"This isn't what you think it is!" she said as calmly as she could, though worried fear was creeping into her voice._

 _"Oh, yeah? Tell me how it's not what I think it is!" he said, barely controlled anger caged behind his crossed arms._

 _"He…I…we…" Monica started, grasping at words to explain why she was with Richard just then._

 _"He proposed to you?" he asked._

 _"How did you…"_

 _"Rachel told me," he said quickly. "Didn't he?!"_

 _"Y…yes," she said, diverting her eyes._

 _"Well, congratulations!" he said, throwing up his arms with bitter sarcasm._

 _"What? No, Chandler! I didn't say 'yes'!" she said, running after him as he moved quickly down the sidewalk._

 _He turned, putting his hands on his hips, a look of devastation on his face._

 _"Then why are you with him?!" he demanded._

 _"I…I…I was waiting for you and…and…"_

 _"And I was taking too long so you went to him!"_

 _"Yes!" she said hotly, then widened her eyes as it dawned on her what he might think that meant. "No, that's not…it's not what it looks like!"_

 _"It's not?" he said, his voice strained, tears in the corners of his eyes, gesturing wildly with his hands. "So I didn't just find my girlfriend in her ex-boyfriend's apartment kissing him? It was all an illusion?! You must show me how you do such magic!"_

 _"Chandler…listen to me please!" Monica begged, her eyes filling with tears, feeling him starting to slip away. She reached for him but he quickly stepped back. "It was an accident, a mistake! It just…happened. I don't know how…"_

 _He took a step toward her._

 _"Like your secret lunch with him just 'happened' last year, huh?" he said angrily, eyes blazing, hurt flooding out of him. "So, let's see, lunch last year. Kissing this year. So next year I guess I'll find you two in bed together."_

 _In shock she raised her hand to slap him, but he caught her wrist._

 _"That's not fair!" she shouted as he released her arm._

 _"Fair? Fair?!" he said, his voice rising as he stepped back again. He gestured angrily towards Richard's apartment building. "You know what's not fair? Me thinking I was ever good enough to take his place. You never should have let me believe that, because I bought it - hook, line and sinker."_

 _Monica started crying in earnest now as she watched his heart breaking in front of her. Her head was spinning, trying to find a way to make all this madness go away._

 _"Chandler, please stop it, just stop!" she reached for him again, but he put his hands up in a surrender motion and stepped further back. "It's just a big misunderstanding…"_

 _"Oh, no it's not. I understand it perfectly," he took a deep breath as tears rolled down his cheeks, his face contorted with a mix of shock and betrayal. "He's always there, just…hovering over us. Now your…your lips…your hands were just…"_

 _He let out a disgusted, guttural noise and backed away from her, turning and hustling to hail a cab. She ran after him, her heart thundering, her head screaming for her to stop him._

 _"Don't! We can talk about this! Nothing happened!" she grabbed his jacket as a cab pulled to a stop next to him, but he jerked it away from her._

 _"I never thought_ you _, Mon…" he said, his voice catching as her hands flew to the sides of her head and her eyes closed against the anguish she saw in his. She wasn't getting through to him. "I_ never _thought_ you _would…do…this..."_

 _"Chandler…please, please let me explain what happened, please?!" she pleaded, just as Chandler spotted Richard coming out of the apartment building._

 _He shot daggers in his direction, then for the last time turned his eyes to her._

 _"I'm gonna make this real easy for ya," he whispered thickly, then moved quickly into the cab and slammed the door._

 _"Chandler! Chandler!" she cried, pounding her hand against the top of the taxi as it pulled away…_

A shudder ran through her and she closed her eyes against the pain. She recalled Richard coming to her as she screamed after the cab. He tried to put his arms around her, but she shrugged out of his embrace and pushed him away. She began to lay into him, telling him this was his fault, he had no right to tell her how he felt when she was with someone else - when she was in love with someone else.

She was near hysterical and almost everything else happened in a blur. Quickly she dashed back into his building and ran up the two flights of stairs to his apartment. She grabbed her purse and ran back down, not even acknowledging Richard in the foyer by the front door.

She couldn't stop crying. The pain she saw in Chandler's eyes, on his face, was unlike any she'd seen before. She knew why. _She'd_ caused it. _She'd_ hurt him. She was wild to talk to him and assumed, hoped he was going home. They'd work it out, she kept telling herself. This was her and Chandler, they'd work it out. So as fast as she could she hailed a cab, went home and waited.

And in so many ways, she was still waiting…

 _Ladies and gentlemen, please take your seat and fasten your seatbelts. We're now making our decent into Oakland-San Francisco. We have light fog in the Bay Area with temperatures…_

Monica's eyes snapped open and she took a deep breath, trying to prepare herself for much, much more than just a safe landing.

 _ **NOTE: Yeah, I'm guessing this will be your least favorite chapter of this fic. For an explanation of canon parallels in this AU, I offer this - Chandler**_ **wasn't** _**thinking of proposing here. For this story he really**_ **wasn't** _**quite ready when she put their names down at the museum. And that's all I'm going to explain right now. ;)**_

 _ **Thank you for your reviews :)**_


	3. Chapter 3

Chandler scrolled through his Blackberry as he opened her front door and made his way into the kitchen.

"Hello?" he called out, looking up into the empty room. He could hear her heels clicking along the hardwood.

"Hi," she said with a smile as she walked over to him.

"Hey," he smiled, pulling her to him. He gave her a quick kiss. "I beat the girls?"

"You did," Felicia said, glancing at her watch. "Not by much. They'll be here momentarily."

"Ah," he said before she kissed him again. He grinned when she pulled back.

"So, I hear I have some competition," she said teasingly, cocking a perfectly shaped eyebrow at him. His smile faltered just a bit.

"Oh…yeah…?" he asked, tentatively.

"Yeah," she smirked. "Guess who's soul was crushed when 'Chander' didn't pick her up from pre-K today?"

Chandler's face broke into a big smile.

"I knew I was in trouble when I introduced you to the girls," she said with a grin. "Sadie's quite taken with you."

Chandler chuckled.

"Well, I do have a way with the ladies," he said. "Not, ya know, a successful way but she's only three so…"

Felicia stepped back, throwing her long auburn locks over her shoulder. She grabbed his finger in hers.

"You've got her wrapped around your little pinky," she grinned.

"I really think that's the other way around," he said, giving her a smile. Felicia smiled back and moved into his arms again just as her cell phone started to buzz. She stopped and grabbed it from the front pocket of her pants suit.

"Damn, sorry, I gotta get this," she said, her light brown eyes never leaving her Blackberry. He frowned a little.

"How's the trial going?" he asked, stepping away from her, knowing that she was now in full lawyer mode and wasn't going to answer him anyway. He'd learned that in the last six-plus months they'd been together.

She grunted in response and turned, walking away from him.

"Sandy…" she started, talking to her assistant as she headed back to her home office on the other side of the house.

Chandler sighed and looked around the kitchen. She'd invited him over for dinner, and he could tell cooking wasn't on the agenda for the evening. His girlfriend's townhome was in one of the trendiest neighborhoods in San Francisco. The kitchen he was standing in was huge, something any chef would love, but it was rarely used for more than making the kids cereal and brewing Felicia gallons of coffee.

The first time he'd walked into it he couldn't help but think of Monica and what she'd do with a space like that. He remembered all those years she'd make great meals in Apartment 20's tiny kitchen. She'd have given her left arm for a kitchen like the one he was standing in now.

Chandler took off his jacket and hung it over one of the bar stools on the center island as he heard the front door open. He smiled as the house turned from the quiet tones of Felicia in her office to the shrieks of laughter from two little girls running along the hardwood.

"Slow down!" Pat bellowed from behind Sadie and her five-year-old sister, Hallie, as he placed the girls' suitcase in the foyer.

"Chander!" Sadie said, running over to him and hugging his leg.

"Hey, Sades," he said, patting her on the head. Hallie, the more reserved of the two sisters, waved, smiled and said "hi" to him as she walked into the living room to put away her backpack and school supplies.

"Hi, Pat," Chandler said, with a nod as Sadie released his leg and ran after her big sister in the other room.

"Chandler," Pat said, then added with a smirk, "or should I say 'Chander'?"

Chandler chuckled a little, shaking his head.

"It's not bad enough you're banging my ex-wife, you gotta steal my daughter away, too?" Pat asked. "Sadie Girl was not happy I showed to pick her up."

Chandler quickly turned red, and strained his neck, looking somewhat panicked into the living room.

"I…ah…I…" he started, stumbling over his words.

Pat started to chuckle.

"Aw…settle down," Pat said, slapping a bear-sized hand on Chandler's shoulder. "I'm just teasing ya. If I have to share my girls I'd rather share 'em with someone who gives a rat's ass about 'em."

Chandler rolled his eyes, and started breathing normally again, smirking at Felicia's ex-husband.

"You do have a way with the words there, Patrick," he said, to which Pat let out a big, jovial laugh as Felicia walked back into the kitchen, still on her cell phone. She waved to Pat.

Pat waved back then nudged Chandler's shoulder.

"I see she's still heavily involved with Mr. Blackberry, too," he said, giving Chandler a knowing look. Chandler couldn't help but smirk back at him as Sadie and Hallie ran back into the kitchen.

"Mommy!" Sadie shrieked, seeing her Mom for the first time that day. She and Hallie had spent the night before at their father's house.

"Sadie!" Felicia whispered as she turned, cell phone to her ear, and hushed her daughter with a finger to her lips.

Hallie made her hand into a pretend phone and put it to her ear, rolling her eyes at her sister and Chandler. They smirked at her and then each other as they slowly made their way across the kitchen and back into the living room, their Dad and Chandler following close behind.

Chandler picked up the remote from the coffee table, flipped on the TV for the girls and began scrolling through the channels.

"So, Chandler…have any connections for the A's-Giants this weekend?" Pat said, slapping Chandler once again on the shoulder. Better than the ass, Chandler mused to himself.

"Maybe, I dunno, Club Level seats?" Pat asked, gleam in his eye.

Chandler found the Disney Channel then put down the remote control before he turned to answer him.

"I'll see what I can do," he said with a grin. "Nothing to do on your off weekend?"

Pat smiled smugly at Chandler, causing him to chuckle. If anyone reminded him of Joey, it was Pat. He wasn't that much taller than Chandler, but he was a beast of a guy. Brown hair, brown eyes, a megawatt smile and forearms the size of small barrels. He'd played football for the University of Southern California and Chandler swore he still could.

Since he and Felicia amicably divorced two years ago, Pat had a different date every other weekend, when he didn't have the girls. He was a flirt at the same playing level as Joey, no question, but he really was a good father. He and Chandler actually got along well.

"I'm still seeing who's available," he said, with a wink as he and Chandler walked back to the kitchen. Felicia hit the "off" button on her phone with a heavy sigh.

"I'll tell you what," she started, not talking to either man in particular. "If you want something done right you sure as hell better do it yourself!"

"Okay…" Pat said, shooting Chandler a sympathetic look. "I gotta run. Girls were great, Felicia."

"What?" she asked distractedly, already scrolling through her phone again. "Oh, yeah, good, good. They're my sweeties…"

"Hallie's teacher was impressed with her artwork, it's in her backpack," he added.

"Oh yeah?" Felicia said. When neither man immediately answered her she raised her eyes. She got the message and put her phone down on the counter.

"Yes," Pat answered, with thinly-veiled annoyance. "Said she was showing serious talent."

"She is a bright bulb," Felicia said, smiling.

"Well, her mother is a Rhodes Scholar," Pat said, "maybe Sadie will be my linebacker."

Chandler chuckled as Felicia rolled her eyes.

"One can only hope," Chandler quipped. Pat chuckled, then grabbed his coat and walked back into the living room to say goodbye to his daughters.

"You were a Rhodes Scholar?" Chandler said, impressed.

"Yeah," she said, with a wave of her hand. "I'm sure Pat's IQ has balanced out the girls', though, unfortunately."

"Ouch," Chandler said, with a slight grimace.

"Just kidding," she added, but he wasn't so sure.

"Bye," Pat said as he came back into the kitchen and headed for the front door, adding over his shoulder to Chandler. "Let me know about those tickets?"

Chandler nodded.

"Will do."

"Alright!" he said, as he walked out the door. "See you next week, Felicia."

Felicia waved as she walked over to get a glass out of the cabinet.

"You don't have to get him anything!" Felicia said in a somewhat disgusted voice as she walked across to the refrigerator for water. Chandler shrugged.

"I don't mind," he said, adding in a lower voice. "After all, I am the one banging his ex-wife and stealing his daughters."

"What?!" Felicia said, turning to him with a horrified expression on her face. "He didn't say…oh, Christ, of course he said that…"

She sighed heavily in disgust, but Chandler just chuckled.

"You're the one who married the Rhodes Scholar," he quipped. "Oh, wait…"

"No, _I_ was the Rhodes Scholar," she pointed out, missing his sarcasm completely.

"Yeah," Chandler said, a little uncomfortably. "I was, ah, joking."

"Oh," she said, her face turning a little pink. She smiled a little sheepishly at him. "Sorry."

Chandler smirked and nodded.

She grinned at him over her glass of water and he cleared his throat.

"Um," he said, suddenly feeling uncomfortable with the intimate look she was giving him. "You said there would be…dinner…involved tonight?"

Felicia's face fell.

"Oh, damn, I did, didn't I?" she said, putting her glass on the counter and running over to the fridge. She opened it up and moaned, then closed the door.

"I'm sorry, with the trial and everything I completely forgot…"

"Hey, don't sweat it," he said, rubbing her shoulders for a moment. "Chinese?"

"Sounds great," she said with a grateful smile, as her phone started buzzing on the counter once again. She tried not to glance at it and closed her eyes.

"How was your day?" she said, carefully, struggling to ignore the Blackberry. "Hey, did Steve Young buy that house?"

"He's still deciding," Chandler said, with a roll of his eyes. "I've talked to him four times today."

"It's hard being a Realtor to the stars," she smiled, visibly relieved when the call went into voicemail.

Chandler chuckled.

"General Tso's?" he asked.

"What? Oh, yeah, great," she said, grabbing her phone off the counter once again. "I have chicken strips for the girls, but could you get extra rice?"

"Yeah," Chandler said, then gestured into the living room. "Remember…"

He pointed to where Hallie and Sadie were watching TV. Felicia sighed, then dropped her head and nodded. Chandler shook his head as she walked into the living room, knowing at that moment she was only partially paying attention to her little girls - she was already checking the voicemail.

He grabbed his jacket and was making his way out the front door when his own phone started to vibrate. He stopped on the stoop outside and closed the door behind him.

Chandler pulled his Blackberry from his pocket and looked at the number. It was a local number but he didn't recognize it. He sighed, wondering if Steve was calling again about the house he'd told him he wanted to buy - and not buy - at least four times in the last two days. He pressed the "talk" button…

"Chandler Bing," he answered.

He heard a gasp at the other end of the line.

"Hello?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

Monica pushed a lock of hair behind her ear with a shaking hand as soon as she heard his voice. She nervously licked her lips.

"Hello?" he asked one more time, his eyes distracted by an empty plastic bag as it floated along the breeze down the tree-lined sidewalk in front of him.

She gripped her other hand at the mouthpiece of the hotel room telephone and closed her eyes, little broken sounds falling from her lips.

Finally she swallowed heavily.

"Hello," she said softly, her voice quivering. "It's me…"

 _ **NOTE: Cruel cliffhanger, I know. Sorry! ;)**_

 _ **Thank you so much for your reviews. I'm amazed how much everyone likes this story. Thankfully it has been pretty easy to write (finding**_ **time** _**to write is another story, but I digress). Sorry to keep folks up nights, and make them late for work - oh my! But, thank you, thank you. We've got a ways to go (more like "Slow Me Down," not "For What It's Worth," length though, so that's good, right?!).**_

 _ **Thanks, again :)**_


	4. Chapter 4

"Hello," she said softly, her voice quivering. "It's me…"

The plastic bag disappeared in a flash as Chandler's eyes focused intently on his car parked out in front of Felicia's townhome. He could hear the hum of the traffic passing by, he could vaguely pick up the sounds of a small flock of birds in a nearby tree, but he couldn't believe what he'd just heard.

"Hello? " Monica said again, her eyes stinging with tears at the silence on the other end of the line. "Chandler? Can you hear me?"

With his free hand Chandler gripped his shirt against his chest, as though trying to keep his racing heart from escaping. He swallowed hard, then used the same hand to grasp the railing next to him, feeling lightheaded.

"Yes," he finally said in muted shock. "Yes, I can hear you."

"Good," Monica sighed shakily, putting a trembling hand to her forehead. "I, um…"

"Are you…are you in…California?" he interrupted, his voice barely concealing how stunned he was to hear hers. Shockwaves started to roll though him and suddenly he was frenetic. He turned toward the house, then swiftly back toward his car. He ran off the stoop and down the stone steps, nearly tripping off the bottom one.

"Yeah, I…I'm in San Francisco for a conference…" she said, beginning to nervously pace in the small space the phone cord would allow her to reach in her hotel room.

"Oh, yeah?" he said distractedly, as he fumbled to unlock the car with his key fob then jerked open the driver's side door.

"Yeah," she said, trying to take deep breaths away from the receiver to calm herself down. He was talking to her. Oh, thank God, he was talking to her!

"I…I'm opening my own restaurant next month and there was this conference my business partner wanted me to attend," she said quickly, beginning to anxiously ramble on. "He's, Cory, my business partner, is the…the business side of the, um, business and I'm, ah, ya know, the cooking side, but he…he thought it would be a good idea to go to this seminar for restaurant owners and…."

"Your own restaurant?" he said as he opened the glove compartment and dug out his old cell phone. He stared at it, listening to her and listening to his heartbeat thump directly against his ear. He blinked a couple times as it slowly dawned on him...this was real. She'd called him on his current phone, in his current life, and was talking to him.

His hand, still holding the old phone, dropped onto the passenger seat. He tilted his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes, willing his heart to settle down - willing his body to stop shaking inside.

"And, um, anyway," she continued, still pacing. "Tomorrow's the main workshop I'm interested in and then there's a reception to close out the conference and I…"

Suddenly she stopped, realizing she was going on and on about nothing truly important because she was nervous as hell.

"I'm sorry," she said, taking a deep breath. "Did I catch you at, ah, a bad time?"

"No, I…" he started, his heart slowing just a little. "It's just…I'm…I'm just surprised is all…"

"I know," she said quietly, sitting down now on the corner of the hotel bed. She closed her eyes. "So, how…how are you?"

He almost laughed. How _was_ he? Reeling. That's how he was, but he couldn't exactly say that.

"Good…good. Fine. Yeah, real good," he said quickly. "You? How are you?"

"I'm…fine," she said, rolling the phone cord between her fingers. When he didn't say any more she cleared her throat. She'd called him for a reason.

"I…I'm in town until Saturday afternoon," she said nervously. "My flight leaves around 3. I'm sorry I didn't call earlier in the week but I…I…"

She didn't finish her sentence and she didn't have to. The awkward tension between them was easy for them both to feel through the phone connection.

"My seminar is over about 4 tomorrow," she continued. "The reception starts at 7, but I was…I was wondering if you would want to meet up for a drink or something in between or maybe, maybe coffee Saturday before I…go."

Chandler's eyes shot open and he stared out of his windshield, seeing nothing. His heart started racing again as he contemplated coffee with Monica on a Saturday morning. Oh, God.

"I…ah…um…" he mumbled.

"I mean, I don't know what…are you working?" she interrupted suddenly. "I mean, we could meet up if you're available, I…"

Monica swallowed back her tears as she waited for him to respond. The silence was deafening and seemed to last forever.

"That is, if you don't still hate me," she finally whispered, the pain now plain in her voice.

He furrowed his brow and shook his head, that comment finally prompting him to speak. He took a deep breath.

"I never hated you, Monica," he said quietly, sighing heavily.

Tears spilled to her cheeks as she heard him say her name - without spite, without malice - just like he'd said it a thousand times before. No one had ever said her name like he did. She cleared her throat.

"Really?" she said, with as much confidence in her voice as she could muster.

"Of course not," he said softly, squeezing his closed eyes with his forefinger and thumb. He sat up a little straighter in the driver's seat and shook the cobwebs out of his head. It had been three years. Certainly he could meet her for a drink.

"Yeah, sure we…we can do that. I can…I can meet you tomorrow afternoon," he offered.

"Really?" she said, wiping her tears with her palm. "OK. OK, great!"

He smiled sadly as he heard the classic Monica enthusiasm in her voice. He was relieved that hadn't changed.

"Um…I guess the next question is where," she giggled nervously, as the stress she was carrying around with her turned from a batch of anxiety to cautious excitement. Her stomach ached, but this time she could feel just a few butterflies. If he was willing to meet with her, that was a good sign. She couldn't stop smiling.

"Oh, yeah, there is the question of where," he said, trying to make his mind focus, "um…is the conference at the convention center downtown?"

"Yeah," she said. "I'm staying at the Hilton on Howard Street."

"Oh, yeah, OK, I know where you are," he said. "There is a place called the B Bar close to there..."

"Oh yeah, yeah, I've seen it!" she nodded, knowing exactly the place he was referring to.

"OK, I, um, I'll meet you there? Around 4:30?" he asked, his brain still not quite comprehending he was having this conversation with her.

"Sure!" she said with more spirit than she meant to. "I'll…I'll see you there."

"OK," he said, smiling just a little, then adding with a hint of nervousness. "OK, then, so I…I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Yes," she said, smiling into the phone. Then she frowned a little, as it hit her that she was actually going to see him for the first time in three years. A cascade of emotions began to race through her, so many that she just prayed she could harness them before she saw him the next day.

"We have…we have a…a lot to…to talk about," she said, tentatively.

Chandler closed his eyes then glanced over his shoulder, back toward the townhouse. Sadie was looking at him through the large bay window. She smiled big and waved frantically to him as he caught her eye. He smiled a little and waved back.

"Yeah," he said quietly, facing forward again and putting one hand on the steering wheel. "Yeah, we do."

Monica just nodded, gripping the phone tight once more. She wasn't sure she wanted to let it go, let him go.

"OK," she said with a nod. "OK, so I'll see you then?"

"Yeah, I'll be there," he promised, then added after a moment. "And….Mon?"

"Yeah?" she said, her hands beginning to tremble again. She heard him take a deep breath.

"Thanks for calling me," he said, honestly, and not only meaning when she'd called him right then.

She gasped a little, then smiled as her eyes watered once again.

"Thank you for answering and…and talking to me," she whispered.

He nodded and swallowed the lump in his throat.

"See you tomorrow," he said. "Bye, Monica."

"OK," she said, nodding to herself. "See you then, Chandler. Bye."

Chandler pulled the Blackberry away from his ear and watched as the screen went blank. He put it next to him in an empty cup holder. He looked at his old cell phone, then buried it back in the glove compartment, slamming it closed.

He started the car and put both hands on the steering wheel, locking his fingers tightly around it and rocking them back and forth.

"Oh my God," he whispered, his heart still thundering.

At the same time, in the hotel in downtown San Francisco, Monica hung up the phone and stood up from the bed.

"OK, OK," she whispered to herself over and over again as she smoothed the front of her skirt a half dozen times. She wrapped her arms across her chest and began pacing one more time, knowing she wasn't going to get one ounce of sleep until she laid eyes on him again.

And maybe not even then.

###

"Hey, um, listen," Chandler said as Felicia walked back into the kitchen after putting the girls to bed. "I, ah, I won't be able to get Sadie from school tomorrow afternoon."

She picked up the last of the Chinese food cartons and threw them away, cocking a bemused eyebrow at him.

"Oh, you're gonna be in big trouble, mister," she said, with a little smile. "You better have good excuse. Steve call about that house, again? Sadie told me you were on the phone in the car earlier."

"Ah, no, no, that's not it," he said, folding the dish towel and hanging it neatly on the dishwasher handle. Felicia looked at him curiously.

"What's going on?" she asked. "You've been quiet since you came back with dinner."

Chandler took a deep breath and did his best to sound as unaffected as possible.

"That was…earlier in the car….that was, ah, Monica on the phone," he said, wincing a little.

"Monica?" Felicia said, confused. Then it dawned on her as her face broke into a look of surprise. "Monica. Your ex, Monica?"

"Ye...yes," he replied. "She, ah, apparently she's in town for some conference and wanted to know if we could, um, get together for a drink before she left. She leaves for New York late Saturday…"

He sucked in his breath, a part of him wishing Felicia would say "no" so he could get out of it. Now that he'd had a few hours to think about it, the thought of seeing Monica again after all this time - with everything as truly unresolved between them as it was - was beginning to spark some serious anxiety in him.

The other part of him was daring Felicia to refuse to let him see her, the ensuing argument making him feel less guilty about wanting to have drinks with his ex-girlfriend.

Felicia cocked her head to the side, studying him. It was the way she studied potential jurors and it made him even more nervous. He stood up a little straighter.

"That's ironic," she finally said. "Did you tell her about next week?"

Chandler diverted his eyes and shook his head.

"Ah, no, no, it didn't come up, no," he said.

She raised her eyebrows at him, but still didn't respond.

"Look," he said finally, walking over to her. "She and I, we were…friends for a long time before we…were…anything more. She's…she's an old friend."

No, that was a lie. She was so much more than that, he thought. But, going forward, that's probably all she would be.

She looked at him another moment, then to his surprise, she shrugged and gave him a little smile.

"Sure, you can go," she said, gazing up at him as her fingers ran up his arm, "but thanks for asking."

"I wasn't really…but, wait…really?!" he said, caught off guard by her casual response. She just nodded.

"Sure," she said with another shrug. "I mean, look, you have this great bromance going on with my ex…"

"Oh, for God sake…" he said, smiling a little.

"I question your judgement on that, but really I don't know anything about your friends in New York," she said, then her eyes lit up. "Hey, why don't you invite her out here for breakfast or…or brunch Saturday before she leaves."

"Oh, I don't know…" Chandler said, almost physically blanching at the thought.

"Why not?" Felicia asked. "Like I said, you know Pat really well. It's only fair I get to meet Monica, right? Besides, this is the first time any of your friends in New York have ever been out to see you, right?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

"Come on, it'll be fun," she said, a little gleam in her brown eyes. "I'll even cook up something. Breakfast is my specialty."

She smiled at him, but he couldn't help but think that breakfast really wasn't _her_ specialty.

He shrugged.

"OK, I'll ask," he said, not at all crazy about the idea.

"Great," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek. "I gotta answer a couple emails. See you in a few."

With that she turned and walked into her office.

Chandler plopped down heavily on the kitchen island stool, palms to his forehead as he leaned against the cool marble. He let out a deep sigh, wondering how in the hell the last three hours of his life had unfolded.

And how in the hell he was going to make it through the next day.

 _ **NOTE: Thank you so, so much for your reviews! I truly appreciate each one.**_

 _ **BTW - The B Bar is a real place. I don't know if it was there circa 2003, when this story is set, but it looks super cool. Google it - I wanna go!**_

 _ **Hope you're still enjoying this…things are getting interesting now… ;) Warning…I'm not 100% sure when the next update will come, but it will come. I promise :)**_


	5. Chapter 5

Monica took another deep breath as she stood outside the B Restaurant & Bar. She glanced at her watch. 4:28 p.m. She ran a hand over her hair, briefly closed her eyes and begged her body to stop shaking.

She took one last look around her before peering through the bar's floor to ceiling windows. It was packed, everyone crowding into happy hour on a Friday afternoon. Ironic, she thought. They were all just going about their lives, getting ready to unwind from a busy work week and she'd never felt more tense in her whole life.

Her blue eyes scanned the crowd inside and glanced once more all around her outside. She briefly smiled to herself. It wouldn't be unlike the Chandler she knew to be late, she just hoped he hadn't bailed on her.

No! No, she refused to think that. He said he'd be there.

She glanced down one more time and sighed as her watch's second hand moved from 4:28 to 4:29. She looked back into the bar area of the restaurant. She spotted one open seat at the bar, next to a man wearing a black sports coat, who just then briefly glanced over his shoulder.

"Oh my God," she gasped, her voice in her throat. Her heartbeat tripled as she stood frozen in place.

It was Chandler, but not how she remembered him. Her heart thundered as he turned around on the stool, his still-beautiful blue eyes scanning the entrance looking, she knew, for her. She sucked in her breath, and could feel tears sting the back of her eyes.

He looked…gorgeous.

Monica swallowed hard, the ache and desire she'd fought so hard to bury fighting its way to the surface once again. He was wearing an electric blue shirt which off-set the black sports coat and his black slacks. His hair was a little lighter, like she remembered it would turn during the summer, but much shorter. He was tan, more chiseled in his features, and if she didn't know better she'd swear it looked like he'd been working out. He looked older, more mature - and even more handsome than she remembered, more attractive than her endless daydreams about him conjured up.

She started to breathe heavily, a part of her wanting to run. She wasn't proud of it, but there was a piece of her that wanted to find him a little lost, a touch disheveled, just waiting for her to come get him and bring him back home. It was the part that didn't want to find her closure. It was the raw part, deep down, that just wanted to heal his broken heart and make the world make sense again.

But the man now looking down at his Blackberry didn't look heartbroken. He looked confident, relatively comfortable in his own skin. He looked somewhat apprehensive, but that was about it. He didn't look like he was pining over lost love. He didn't seem to be pining over anything.

She felt as though she had dived into a pool of ice water and an active volcano at the same time. She was so relieved to see him - healthy and seemingly happy - and yet so…sad to find him in such a way. Clearly, their breakup didn't tear him up like it tore her up inside - like it still tore her up. But, that was her fault, she reminded herself. It was her fault that it appeared the love of her life had built a nice new one for himself over the years, a million miles away from her.

Monica blinked a couple times as Chandler turned back toward the bartender. She swallowed down the familiar tears of regret that threatened to spill from her eyes. She raised her chin up and took a step toward the front door, wearing what she hoped passed for a confident smile on her face.

Chandler picked up his glass and took another sip of his water, feeling a sheen of sweat spring up on the skin under his shirt. He glanced back at his phone. 4:31.

"Da-ymm," the bartender said, suddenly, grinning at Chandler and nodding over his shoulder. Chandler's eyes fluttered closed as every muscle in his body tensed up. He had a feeling he knew who had come in the door. She would stand out in a crowd. She always did.

"If that's who you're waiting for…" the bartender said with a low whistle as he winked at Chandler, who winced, held his breath and slowly turned around.

And there she was.

He could swear his heart stopped as his eyes automatically traveled up and down her perfect body. She was wearing a low cut, deep red, knee-length dress, instantly reminding him how much he loved it when she wore that color. Her hair was still long, but different. It was layered or had auburn highlights, he didn't know which but it looked stunning on her.

Somewhat clumsily he stood, his eyes landing on her beautiful face. She hadn't changed - same porcelain skin, same deep dimples in her cheeks. Her big blue eyes were bright, her smile fixed, but to him she looked like she was about to cry. And honestly, he felt like he was, too.

He took a deep breath, blinking rapidly, as she made her way over to him, turning nearly every male head as she walked by. Damn if she wasn't still the most beautiful woman in the room, he thought. How had she ever once been his?

Monica stopped just a foot or so in front of him, closer than she had been to him in three years. Her legs felt like Jell-O. As casually as she could she rested her hand against the sleek, stone bar for a moment, hoping he wouldn't see she was trying to steady herself as he softly smiled at her.

"Hello, Mon," he said in a low voice, consciously keeping his hands at his sides to stop himself from pulling her into his arms.

The pools of water in her eyes grew.

"Hello, Chandler," she whispered, taking her hand off the bar and tentatively resting it on his upper arm, sending shivers down his spine. She smiled gently up at him. His heart slammed against his chest and instinctively - as though it had last happened three minutes ago, not three years ago - he bent down to kiss her.

In the final second he came to his senses and changed direction, his lips lingering instead on her cheek.

Monica closed her eyes as his lips touched her skin, her heart pounding and her head swimming. She was close enough to touch him, to inhale his scent, to feel his presence all around her, and the feelings that were racing through her body right in that moment completely overwhelmed her.

Chandler pulled back, his face a couple inches from hers, then before he knew it he found himself locked inside her embrace. Her arms were wrapped so tightly around him so quickly he gasped, then tucked her head under his chin and wrapped his arms around her, lacing his fingers through her hair. He felt her shaking as he held her close and his eyes filled with tears. He closed them and lowered his mouth, kissing the top of her head like he'd done a thousand times before.

"I'm…so…happy to…see you," she whispered brokenly against his chest, releasing all the pent-up anxiety she'd been holding onto all this time. She knew he was OK, of course _knew_ it, but to finally _see_ him, _hold_ him once again was too much.

He tightened his arms around her, the guilt he'd carried around with him for leaving without a trace plain on his face. He swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to find his own voice. Then, as quickly as she'd hugged him, she pulled back, her cheeks wet. She looked up at him, eyes blazing in that classic Geller way behind her tears. He released her, a little taken aback, as she grabbed his arms.

"I was so worried about you," she whispered fiercely at him, keeping her emotions barely contained in the crowded bar. "You have no idea how…scared I was!"

He closed his eyes, dropped his head and nodded. She buried her face in his chest again when he pulled her back against him, shaking his head, trying to shake away layers and layers of pent-up pain.

"I'm sorry," he finally whispered hoarsely against her hair. "I'm so sorry."

She clung to him for a moment then took a couple deep breaths, trying to slow her breathing before she lost herself, before she gave in to the myriad of emotions pouring out of her heart. Here he was apologizing to her, even though she was really the one who needed to make amends. She was the one who needed to tell him _she_ was sorry.

Finally Monica took one last deep breath and stepped back, gently wiping at the tears she'd left on his lapel. His breath caught as she looked up at him, her eyes red and her mascara smudged. She grinned apologetically at him as he took a deep breath of his own.

"You need a drink," he deadpanned in a breathy exhale, lopsided grin playing on his face as he blinked back the tears in his eyes.

"Ya think?" she asked, and despite herself she giggled a little as he smiled at her. "I'm gonna just go, um, put myself back together."

He nodded and pointed in the direction of the restrooms.

"Scotch on the rocks, with…" he started to ask as he began to turn back towards the bar.

"No," she said quickly, shaking her head. "I don't…I don't…not anymore..."

"Oh," he said, raising his eyebrows. She smiled a little, a small blush on her cheeks.

"Gin and tonic, please," she said.

"OK," he nodded. She grinned sheepishly and turned toward the restroom. He watched her walk away, then cleared his throat and turned to the somewhat stunned bartender, who raised his eyebrows at him.

"Ah…" he said, clearing his throat a couple more times. "Two gin and tonics."

"Hendrick's?" the man asked.

"Yeah," Chandler said, heavily taking a seat at the bar once again, then adding under his breath as his shaking hand picked up his water glass one more time, "only the best for her."

###

Chandler was standing, drinks in hand, at the end of the restroom hallway when she emerged five minutes later. He was no longer wearing his sports coat and the blue color of his shirt did nothing to mute the brilliance of his eyes as he grinned at her, handing her the gin and tonic.

"A table opened outside," he said, gesturing out the front windows. "I grabbed it for us, unless you think it's too cool…"

"No," she said, smiling at him as she took the drink from his hands. "It's perfect. Thank you."

He grinned and followed her as she walked out onto the patio, spying his jacket over one of the chairs at an empty table. He quickly put down his drink when they reached it, pulling the chair with his jacket draped over it out for her and then taking a seat on the other side.

Monica grinned as she looked down into her drink, knowing that he'd pulled out that chair for her on purpose, just in case she got cold. She felt her heart ache, again, as she remembered he used to do that all the time when they were together. He was always a gentleman, always.

She swallowed heavily then smiled at him.

"So…I, I can't believe you snagged this table for us," she said, glancing at the crowded restaurant then looking back into his eyes. "It's packed in here."

"Well, ah, yeah I…I'm here pretty often," he said, somewhat stumbling over his words, trying to forget how beautiful she looked in the evening light. He cleared his throat.

"Darren, the barkeep, he knows me. I, ah, sometimes I meet potential clients here," he said, with a shrug.

Monica blinked back in surprise.

"Clients?"

"Yeah, I, ah," he chuckled and shook his head a little. "Believe it or not I sell real estate now."

Monica's mouth opened in shock.

"You're kidding," she said, with a grin. "You?"

"Yeah," he said with a small smile. "I kinda fell into it. But, ya know, in this market it's easy really. Places are selling fast and you can turn a profit quickly…"

She watched him in wonder as he kept speaking, studying him, and honestly not listening to his words just the sound of his voice. She watched his mouth move, she watched him cross his arms in front of him. Yes, he'd definitely been working out. She watched the light play in and out of his eyes and subconsciously she shook her head. Yeah, she thought wryly, she was _completely_ over him.

"I'm sorry," he said, suddenly, reaching for his drink, giving her a shy grin. "I still tend to keep talking until someone stops me."

"No, I…" she said, suddenly a little embarrassed that she'd been checking him out the whole time. "It's just a surprise. I never imagined you'd be in…sales."

"Yeah," he said, setting down his drink again. "But, what about you? Look at you. You're opening your own restaurant? That's incredible, Mon. Congratulations."

He watched her eyes light up like they did when she was talking about the career she loved so much. She sat up a little straighter and smiled in an excited, little girl way that had never once failed to make his heart flutter - this moment being no exception.

"Yes. It's called Javu and actually, I kinda fell into it myself," she said. "You remember Pete?"

"Pete?" he said, furrowing his brow a moment as it dawned on him. "Oh, yeah, Pete. Pete Becker? You're ex-…."

He stopped before he said "boyfriend," shifting his weight in his chair, realizing suddenly that he'd joined the ranks of her ex's now, too.

She felt the uncomfortable moment, too, and blushed a little, attempting to push past it.

"Yeah," she said quietly, lowering her lashes a moment. "Anyway, he, um, oh he's married now, did you know that?"

"Ah…no," he replied.

"Yeah, and he's got three baby boys," she went on quickly. "A 2-year-old and his wife just had twins!"

"Wow," he said, picking up his drink again. "I guess he never did become the Ultimate Fighting Champion, huh?"

"No," Monica said with a little giggle, "but I think he's hoping to procreate his own basketball team."

She rolled her eyes and took a long drink of her gin as Chandler chuckled. He couldn't believe it. Their conversation was actually tame and somewhat relaxed between them - like they really were just two old friends catching up on their lives. He was sure the gin was helping, but he felt like he was doing OK. He was sitting with her and he wasn't shaking. His pounding heart had settled and so far he was holding his own. Maybe he could do this, he thought. He could just be friends with her again.

"Anyway," she continued with a wave of her hand, becoming animated again. "He has this business partner, Cory, who was looking to invest in a Manhattan restaurant, from scratch. I guess this was six-eight months ago, and Pete, of course, remembered that I always wanted my own restaurant and so he put us in contact and…"

Chandler took another sip, trying hard to concentrate on her story, but he kept getting distracted by the late afternoon sun bouncing off the dusting of freckles on her bare shoulders and the sparkles in her eyes when she'd briefly look to her right, toward the light. He swallowed hard, his eyes returning to hers, desperate to listen to what she was saying and not the captivating smile that would once in a while cross her lips as she kept speaking.

"…so, that's how I, ah, ended up at the conference here in San Francisco," she finished, fiddling with the cloth napkin that was still laying on the table with the silverware on top. "I'm sorry, here I'm going on and on about myself…"

"No, that's OK," he said, reaching for her hand out of an old habit that had never really died. Her breath caught when his fingers touched hers and she looked into his eyes. For the briefest moment they were caught in the same spell, that same feeling that came as natural to both as the setting sun next to them.

"I'm so sorry for your wait," a waiter said as he suddenly appeared next to their table. Chandler snatched his hand back and Monica dropped hers to her lap.

"Are you ready to order?"

"Ah…" Chandler said shakily, picking up one of the long-forgotten menus on the table top. He glanced over at Monica. "Did you want to order some food?"

"Um, no," Monica said, quietly, her heart thundering as under the tablecloth she lightly ran the fingertips of her right hand over her left, where he'd touched her. "I…I'm pretty sure there is dinner at that reception later…"

"Oh, yeah, that's right," he said, closing his menu. "Another drink then?"

She just nodded as Chandler gave the waiter their drink order and took away the menus and silverware from the table. She smiled gently at him and he smiled back, an unmistakable uncomfortable silence now lingering in the space between them.

"So…you're here… in California," he finally started, slowly, clasping his hands together in front of him on the table, "and…"

Monica closed her eyes a moment, trying to summon the courage she needed to get through the few next sentences - to plow ahead into the reason she'd called him in the first place. She took a deep breath and sat up a little straighter, throwing her shoulders back a touch.

"Yeah, I wanted…I needed to talk to you," she said, the quiver in her voice unmistakable. "I…I need to t…to tell you…"

Chandler looked at her pensively, his eyes soft, waiting on the edge of his seat for her next words. He could tell whatever she wanted to say was hard for her to say and he quietly held his breath, hating the sadness he saw on her face.

She opened her eyes and looked into his, and he swore he could feel his heart crack as a lone tear fell down her cheek.

"I'm sorry," she said in a shaky whisper as his own eyes filled with tears. "I'm so sorry, Chandler, for everything…"


	6. Chapter 6

_**NOTE: Surprise, an A/N at the top! :) Gosh, thanks so many times over for your reviews, BTW! I love them, and you!**_

 _ **So, a peculiar thing happened over the weekend. I downloaded Adele's**_ **25** _**and listened to it on repeat (OK, millions of people did that). But, I was stunned when so many of the lyrics fit so perfectly into current and future chapters of this fic (many of which are at least partially written). So, while I'm not going to lock myself into naming chapters after song titles (been there, done that), I**_ **am** _**going to note the songs at the beginning of the chapters where I believe they fit in this story, just in case anyone is interested.**_

 _ **This whole scene at the B Restaurant & Bar which began last chapter? **_

**"When We Were Young…"**

"I'm so sorry, Chandler, for everything."

Chandler slowly moved his hands along the tablecloth and wrapped his fingers around his glass, blinking rapidly, until he could glance back at her sad face, his eyes watery.

"I will…" she started again, quickly wiping that one tear from her cheek and clearing her throat. "I will…never understand why…I…went…there that night. God knows I have had plenty of time to think about it and I…I still don't know."

She whispered the last words, her eyes darting from his and then looking down. He sucked in his breath, a gigantic lump in his throat, his heart shredding piece by piece.

"I will never forgive myself for…any of it," she whispered again, looking away again toward the setting sun, tears falling freely down her cheeks now. She took a deep breath and finally looked back at him.

"I will never forgive myself for hurting you…" Monica suddenly bit her bottom lip to keep inside the sob that threatened to make its way out. She'd rehearsed what she wanted to say to him if this moment ever came a thousand times and now, she didn't know if she'd make it through. She briefly closed her eyes as she took a deep breath, putting her hands flat on the table in front of her.

"For the pain I saw in your eyes," she whispered clearly, looking at him through her tears, her beautiful face contorted in agony, "for breaking your heart."

Chandler's hands flew from his glass and grabbed both of hers, squeezing them tight between his fingers. He couldn't stand it. He couldn't stand to see her this upset. She let out a surprised, sharp gasp, almost of relief as she looked intently at him.

"Monica," he finally choked out, cocking his head to the side, looking at her with such emotion she started to tremble even more than she already was. "Mon…"

She gazed into his eyes, into the windows of his soul, heart on her sleeve and deep, abiding love still shining in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry," she mouthed, searching his tear-streaked face, unable to find her voice.

He squeezed her hands again, closed his eyes against the naked look on her face and dropped his head. His heart was thundering and his mind had crossed over into turmoil. He could feel Monica's eyes boring into the top of his head and hear her heavy breathing as she squeezed his hands back, waiting for him to say…something. Finally he sniffed back his tears a couple of times, took a deep breath and lifted his face to hers.

"I'll tell you what," he said, his voice low and raspy. "I'll forgive you. I mean, I…I forgive you, but…if you can find it in your…if it's possible for you to...forgive me."

Monica blinked a couple times, looking quizzically at him, just as the server came to drop off their drinks, and several paper napkins, at their table.

Their hands broke apart at the same time and Chandler picked up the napkins, holding a couple out for Monica as she gave the waiter a grateful smile. She dabbed at her eyes as he wiped his cheeks. When the man walked away, Chandler smiled tentatively at her, then took a sip of his fresh gin and tonic.

"I am sorry I…left the…way I did," he said quietly, rolling the glass around between his palms, unable to make eye contact with her. "Taking off…"

She was quiet, and then so was he.

"You were hurt," she finally said, her voice shaking just a bit. "Angry, upset…"

"I shouldn't have let you, let everyone…worry about me like that," he said, shaking his head disgustedly.

"No, you shouldn't have," she finally said, after a moment, trying to keep her voice even and the edge out of her tone but it snuck in anyway.

He glanced up at her from his drink, just a little spark of anger igniting in him.

"The last image I saw was him wrapping his arms around you on the sidewalk," he said, just a touch of edge to his voice. "The lasting image…"

She sharply sucked in a breath and put her fingertips to her temple, resting her elbow on the arm of the chair and picking up her drink. Silently her eyes were begging him not to say it, so he didn't. She sighed heavily and took a sip.

"But…" he said evenly, letting out a long sigh. "I shouldn't have and I am sorry."

Monica studied him. His eyes were focused on the table. As she watched him crumple one of the paper napkins in his fist it dawned on her that he wasn't saying he was sorry he left, he was saying he was sorry he didn't let anyone know where he was.

She sat up straighter, her eyes clearer now, and folded her hands in her lap.

"So…I have always assumed you…went to Vegas?" she asked, her curiosity getting the best of her. She wouldn't have been surprised if his Dad had known where he was all along and didn't tell her…or Nora.

But, to her surprise he shook his head.

"No," he said, lifting his drink to his lips, licking off the extra gin after a long sip. "I went to New Orleans."

She was taken aback.

"You went…what? Where?!"

He sighed and looked back at her again.

"I was…I was going to leave the country," he explained, "but when I got to Newark…"

"Newark?!"

"Yeah," he said, looking away. "I…I didn't have my passport, so…I caught the first flight I could and it was to New Orleans."

She looked at him, a flash of confusion and anger on her face, but she quickly checked herself and just nodded, encouraging him to go on.

"I went straight to Bourbon Street from the airport," he said quietly, the very, very blurry memories of those painful weeks slowly coming back to him.

"The first bar I found…I sat down and started drinking," he said quietly, wincing a little, "and I didn't stop for about three months."

"Oh, Chandler…" she whispered, shaking her head, her anger ebbing as tears stung her eyes again.

"It's pretty easy to get lost in the Big Easy," he said, a sad grin on his face. She shook her head, her big eyes never leaving his. "I don't remember a lot, much at all. I was…angry, upset…devastated really."

Monica anxiously crossed her arms in front of her, a chill running down her spine. He was...lost, alone and drunk…for months…

Her body jerked suddenly.

"If you're cold…" he said, sitting down his glass and gesturing toward his jacket. She just shook her head "no," her eyes looking sorrowfully into his.

Chandler sat back in his chair, gripping both sides with his hands, determined to finish his story. She deserved to know where he was, he thought. She deserved that a long time ago. He looked down and folded his hands in front of him.

"I'm not proud of it," he said, sadness in his voice. "I did a lot of…things…I'm not proud of…when I was there. What I can piece together anyway."

He nervously ran a hand through his hair and looked away, thinly-veiled disgust on his features. Monica closed her eyes. She was sure she didn't want to know the details even if he could tell her.

Chandler cleared his throat.

"It was…I think it was Labor Day weekend," he continued. "I went to a bar that had a show and, I guess…I guess I bought everyone in the bar a round. Apparently I did that a lot because I was just about broke."

Monica just shook her head.

"Anyway, as luck, I guess, would have it, some of my Dad's friends were 'the show,'" he said, shaking his head. "Once they heard my name they asked if I was Helena Handbasket's son. I mean, who else says 'yes' to that?!"

Despite herself, Monica grinned at him and, feeling just a wisp of relief, he grinned back.

"They put my sorry ass on a plane to Vegas that night," he said with a nod. "He met me at the airport - no drag - so I knew he was pretty pissed off."

"Your Dad was worried about you, too, Chandler," Monica said softly. "I talked to him…"

"I know," he nodded quickly, cutting her off. "He told me."

"He did?" Monica said, sitting back in her chair, marveling at the pain that sprang to her heart. He knew she was worried about him, frantic out of her mind, and he _still_ didn't call her?

"Yeah," he sighed, nervously running his hands through his hair again. "I wasn't ready but my Dad insisted I call…someone…back in New York or he was going to do it for me. That's when…that's when I called Joey."

"And he told us you were…in Nevada," she said quietly, with a little nod, recalling vividly Joey running into her apartment after midnight, waking up her and Rachel to say Chandler had called. That he was OK. Rachel had stayed with her as she cried herself back to sleep, the relief overwhelming her. She'd slept for 16 hours straight.

He ran his hand through his hair again, knowing she had no idea how hard that call had been for him to make and how hard it was to hear Joey tell him about how she'd coped, or hadn't coped, with him leaving. The guilt and agony he felt in the days following that phone call never left his heart and they never would.

"How long did you stay Vegas?" she finally asked. He sighed and refused to meet her eyes.

"A couple months," he mumbled, then added in a clearer voice. "I stayed with my Dad. Actually he doesn't live in Vegas. He lives in this suburb about 45 minutes away from there where not a damn thing ever happens, which was probably good for me at the time. He…he basically forced me to pull myself back together."

"A good Dad," she said, hoarsely, her voice betraying her feelings.

"Yeah," Chandler nodded, raising his eyebrows and giving her a little grin. "I kinda found that out."

She grinned back at him then tugged his sports jacket off the chair behind her, pulling it around her shoulders. He smiled at her, knowing she'd probably been cold a good 10 minutes or so, but too stubborn to admit it.

"So, how did you end up in California?" she asked.

"When I was in Vegas I…I actually went to his show sometimes," he admitted.

"You're kidding," she said, with a small smile, imaging Chandler at his father's drag show. He gave her his lopsided grin and nodded.

"My Dad had some regulars at his show and some of them turned out to be the 49ers," he said. "I got to know a couple of them pretty well."

"The…gold rushers?" she said, confused. He laughed a little.

"More like the pass rushers," he explained. "From the NFL?"

"But, you don't even really like football…" she started.

"We didn't talk about football," he said, with a little roll of his eyes. "We started talking about real estate and investing, and they brought me out here on trips when they were looking for investment property. That's how I kinda fell into it."

He shrugged.

"I guess so," she said softly, as it slowly hit her that by that time he'd actually made a conscious decision not to contact her. As if he could read her mind, he swallowed hard.

"By then weeks had turned to months and months to more than six months," he started quietly. "Then a year. It seemed…awkward…so much time had passed..."

She crossed her arms and pulled his jacket tighter around herself, picking up her drink after she did so and concentrating hard on her glass as she took a long sip.

Chandler studied her movements, knowing she was hurt that he didn't contact her. He hoped, prayed she wouldn't ask any questions as to why, because even after all this time he didn't have an explanation ready for her.

She put down her glass with a thud and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"I called you like a thousand times, Chandler," she said, her eyes blazing somewhat angrily at his.

He looked sharply at her, knowing exactly how many times she'd called - how many voicemails she'd left and how many missed calls he'd gotten. He wanted to tell her his heart broke a little every single time.

Instead he went with an easy excuse.

"I…I threw my old phone away and got a new one when I…I got to Nevada," he lied, trying to pass it off with a shrug, hoping she would buy it.

Monica shuddered, but nodded. Long ago she'd figured that her voicemails and desperate calls to him had been lost down some deep cell phone black hole. In a small way, that actually made her feel better.

"Anyway, I got my real estate broker's license and started doing work for the some other pro athletes," he continued. "The only downside is half the time I have to meet them in the weight room at one of the stadiums and they make me work out with them."

He rolled his eyes and sipped his gin. She smiled at him.

"Well, that certainly explains it," she said, giggling just a little, a slight blush on her cheeks. "I thought you might have been working out."

"Completely against my will," he deadpanned, feeling better just seeing her smile, being the one to make her smile. "I suppose no one will ever let me quit the gym."

She laughed then, and it sounded like music to his ears. No one had ever laughed at his stupid little jokes the way she did. He leaned across the table and she leaned in too, like they two school kids sharing a secret.

"There's this one guy, he's got six kids by four different women," he said, shaking his head. "He had four houses and, of course, he wanted me to squeeze blood out of a turnip and get beyond top dollar, even in this market, for one of them so he could pay child support. Crazy."

"Oh my," she said, smiling and relaxing back into their conversation, the gin working its magic on them both.

"Some of the situations those guys get themselves into are just insane," he said. "This guy, the one with the six kids? He ended up in court with the buyer of the house and all _four_ women. Felicia took him to the cleaners, though. He's paying out a ton of money now. But, ya know, he's got a multi-million dollar contract so he's making out just fine."

He smiled at her, then suddenly his face fell.

Monica looked at him, a confused expression on her face coupled with an anxious smile.

"Felicia?" she asked. "Who's Felicia?"

Suddenly Chandler's throat tightened and his heart started to pound heavily. For a moment he looked around frantically, as if trying to find the best place to escape, to turn back time to 10 seconds earlier.

"Chandler?" Monica asked, reaching for his hand, blood slowly draining from her face, suddenly terrified to know the reason behind his onset of nerves.

Finally Chandler sunk back into his seat, taking a couple deep breaths, trying to keep his composure but not looking directly at her.

"Felicia is…my…girlfriend," he said quietly as Monica slowly picked her hand up from on top of his, staring at him now with clear vision, suddenly completely sober.

He took a deep breath, folded his hands together once again on the table and looked into the eyes of the woman across from him.

"She's my girlfriend, Monica."


	7. Chapter 7

_**NOTE: I am sorry for the delay in updating, but I warned you that new chapters may come slowly. It seriously cannot be helped, but thank you for checking in on this story (and me). Don't worry, this fic isn't going to go unfinished (neither is "Good For You," I just have to find the time - and get into the non-angst "zone" - to write its final chapter).**_

 _ **Anyway, thank you so, so much for your reviews! I sincerely appreciate each and every one! :)**_

 _ **Now, without further ado…**_

Monica's heart felt like it was beating right out of her chest. She searched the somewhat pensive expression on his face.

"Felicia?" she asked again, trying to remain as calm as she could.

"Felicia," he repeated, trying hard to keep eye contact but failing. "We've…ah…we've been…together about six months."

Monica could barely hear him her heart was beating was so loudly.

"She…she's divorced," he continued, as Monica fought the urge to cover her ears so she couldn't hear anything else. "She has these two amazing little girls, Hallie and Sadie. I just….I met them just a couple months ago. Hallie's 5 and Sadie is 3, and she's just, well, they're both just…really great."

Monica couldn't help but notice the softness that came into his eyes as he talked about these two small children, strangers to her, who obviously had worked their way into his heart.

The blood was draining so fast from her brain that she could barely think coherently, so she just stared at him, mouth agape, not even blinking her eyes.

"Her ex-husband, Pat, he's actually a good guy, good Dad," Chandler continued, the dumbstruck look on her face not escaping his notice, but he wasn't able to stop talking. He felt like he was confessing something to her, like what he was doing was wrong. In that moment, telling her about Felicia and the girls, it almost _felt_ wrong, though he knew it shouldn't.

"Pat and I, we've kinda become friends, too. She, ah, Felicia, actually gets along well with…him, and…ah," he shifted nervously in his chair. He honestly wasn't going to bring up Felicia's offer, but something made him say the words anyway. Why he did so he had no idea. Just so he could see Monica again? Because he'd completely lost his mind? He didn't know.

"She…actually, she, ah, she wanted me to ask if you'd, um, like to come over to her house tomorrow for…brunch…and meet her."

Once he got the words out he finished speaking quickly, every fiber of his being begging her to be as repulsed by the idea as he was.

That invitation broke Monica out of her stunned trance and she scrunched up her nose.

"I told her…I thought it would be weird," he said, nodding.

"Yeah," she replied, her mind reeling, stilted words beginning to fall fast out of her mouth as she tried to make sense of what she just heard, what she knew she shouldn't have been surprised to hear.

"Yeah, it would. I mean, yeah, she's your…girlfriend. I'm…I mean, of course you have a…girlfriend. It's…it's been…so long. I'm…not…I…"

Chandler was holding his glass again so tightly he thought it might shatter as she diverted her eyes and pursed her lips together, blinking rapidly. His heart felt like a jackhammer. Finally she took a deep breath and looked back at him.

"Joey never said anything…" she started.

"I haven't…" he said, leaning up on his elbows, shifting again in his seat as his face turned a little red. "We haven't talked for a couple months."

"I see," Monica said softly, nodding, as reality settled in. He had a new life. He'd wiped the slate clean and started over. She stared back at his face a moment, unable to read the expression behind his bright blue eyes.

But here it was - he was seeing someone. With kids. He was seeing someone with kids and he'd mentioned it almost as casually as he may have mentioned he had tacos for lunch. Her stomach was in knots and her heart was sinking fast.

"Can I get you anything else?" the waiter said, making his way back to their table.

Monica looked at him blankly, then looked at her watch. It was after 6 p.m.

"No, I…" she said, grabbing her purse off the table. She was shaking, feeling blindsided though she knew she really shouldn't be. "I have to get back to the hotel."

"Mon?" Chandler said as she rose to her feet. He threw down enough cash to cover their drinks and stood, pushing back his chair. "Let me walk you back."

"No, you don't have to," she said, stepping away from the table, from him, trying everything she could to put physical space between them. "It's just down a ways…"

"Please?" he asked, his heart wanting, badly, to spend even a few more moments with her.

She looked up at him, the sadness plain in her eyes, and despite what he'd just told her, her heart felt the same way.

"OK," she whispered.

She turned and began to walk out of the restaurant. She felt her flesh burn as he placed his hand on the small of her back, then grow cold as he quickly snatched his hand back again.

Once they walked onto the sidewalk, Chandler cleared his throat nervously a few times, desperate to fill the empty silence between them. Finally, he sighed.

"Can we…are we at least…friends, now, again?" he asked, tentatively. "I mean, that was part of…this. Right?"

She briefly closed her eyes, wrapping his jacket tighter around her shoulders, and kept walking, leaving him near breathless for her response. He didn't know if that suggestion was a good one or not, or whether it was fair. But at that moment he very much somehow wanted her back in his life - he was desperate to hear her voice outside of an ancient voicemail once again.

Monica's breaking heart continued to race as they quickly reached their destination outside her hotel. She shrugged his coat off her shoulders and handed it back to him, finally looking up at his questioning eyes. Her eyes filled with tears, the thought of never seeing him again nearly worse than all the other pain put together.

She swallowed hard and nodded.

"Yes," she said, just loud enough for him to hear. "I'd like that."

Chandler smiled gently at her, relief running through him, and nodded.

"OK."

She grinned back at him and then turned to look toward the sliding hotel doors, not sure what to do next. Not sure how to say goodbye. He looked toward the front of the building, too, thinking the same thing. Suddenly she took a deep breath and turned back to face him.

"You know what?" she said before she lost her nerve. "You know what, I will come over tomorrow and meet…Felicia."

It was Chandler's turn to feel the blood drain from his face as he blinked in shock.

"You…you will?!" he spat out, not expecting that in the least.

"Yeah," she said with a determined nod. "We're…I mean, we're…we're…friends, again, right?"

"Y…yes," he stuttered out. "Yes…right, yes."

"Well, friends meet friends significant others, right?" she said, her voice taking on a somewhat squeaky tone as she tried hard to hold it together. "I…and like you said, you're, you're friends with her…ex…"

"I know, but…are you sure?" he asked slowly, trying to figure out a way to talk her out of it. _He_ wasn't sure. He wasn't at all sure he how he would handle seeing the two of them together.

"Sure," she said with a forced shrug. "Why not? Besides, I…I don't know when I'll get to see you again..."

She searched his eyes, almost certain she saw a touch of the old-Chandler panic there.

"Maybe….maybe sooner than you think," he blurted out. She looked at him quizzically.

"Tomorrow, I mean," he said with a nervous chuckle. "Tomorrow, then?

"Tomorrow," she said softly. "What time?"

"Ah…10?" he said, his heart in a full gallop now. He glanced at the hotel. "Listen, I…I won't hold you up. I'll, um, I'll call and leave the address with the front desk later."

"Great," she said, making a small smile grace her face. They silently looked into each other's eyes for a moment, each set of blue mirroring the emotional storm in the other. She took another deep breath then stood on her tip toes and kissed his cheek. His eyes fluttered closed as her hair brushed against his face and her scent filled his senses.

"Thanks for walking me down the street," she said softly as she pulled back, blinking the tears out of her eyes.

"Sure," he whispered, lump in his throat. "Have a nice time at the reception."

She smiled gently then turned without saying goodbye, without being able to say goodbye. He watched her walk all the way into the lobby, the glass doors sliding closed behind her.

Then he folded his jacket over his arm, turned on his heels and walked straight back to the bar.

###

Monica dug out her cell phone and threw her purse down on the bed the minute she entered her hotel room. She sat at the edge, palm to her forehead, elbow resting on her knees, clutching her phone to her breast.

She'd contacted him looking for closure, looking for the key to the mystery of moving on. She wanted to clear the air, she desperately didn't want him to hate her. And they'd done just that. Their conversation couldn't have gone better if she'd planned every word herself. It was tense, of course, but not vicious. And there were fleeting moments she felt like they were "them" again.

At least they'd talked to each other again. It wasn't perfect - not anywhere close to what they used to be, but at least they had that. It had been so hard, yet so easy at the same time.

But spending the last two hours with him only reminded her of how amazing he was, of how she instantly felt closer to him than anyone else in the entire world, no matter how much time had passed. It only drove home the fact that she'd let this man who was, without a doubt, the _only_ man for her, completely slip away.

He was dating someone.

He was seriously dating someone.

He was dating someone with kids, who he clearly adored.

Back in New York she'd convinced herself that if he was seeing someone, and he was happy, that would be enough. That'd be it. She'd find a way to move on. That's why she'd ultimately decided to take his current girlfriend up on her offer and show up tomorrow, to see with her own eyes that he was with someone new and was over "them."

Monica sighed heavily in the quiet hotel room and shook her head.

 _You're such an idiot_ , she thought to herself as she flipped her phone open and pushed the speed dial.

"Hello?"

"Hey."

"Monica?!" Rachel said, clutching the phone to her ear, and silently shushing Phoebe who was across the room. "Oh my God, did you see him?"

Monica flopped back on the bed, throwing her arm across her eyes, her lips quivering.

"Just got back," she said, tears in her voice. Rachel briefly closed her eyes.

"Oh, Mon, how…how was it?" she asked, shooting Phoebe a pensive look. "How was…he?"

Monica squeezed the tears out of the corners of her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Great," she said, too loudly, voice full of emotion. "He's great! Just great..."

"Ohhh," Rachel said pensively, shaking her head. "Did you get to tell him…"

"Yes, oh yes," Monica said, tears falling faster, her voice thick. "Yeah, we had a good talk. Really. It was really, really good. It needed…it needed to be done…"

Her last words were muffled and Rachel's eyes filled with tears. She wanted to ask about the details of their conversation, but it was clear Monica wasn't going to be able to articulate much more. Phoebe walked over quietly and sat next to Rachel on the sofa, her sad eyes searching hers. Rachel sighed.

"At least tell me he's gone bald and gotten fat," she spat out.

Monica wiped her eyes and took another deep breath, letting out a half-laugh despite the heartbreak tearing through her.

"Oh, no. No, no he looks…amazing…better than ever," she said, biting her lip and then whimpering before she added quietly, "he's…he's seeing someone, Rach."

Rachel pinched her eyes closed.

"I was afraid of that," she said softly, shaking her head. Both were silent for a moment, Rachel feeling helpless listening to her friend softly crying on the other end of the phone. She heard her take a deep breath.

"Oh, God, Rachel," Monica finally whispered, brokenly, "I still love him."

"Oh, honey," Rachel said sadly, wiping her own eyes. "I know you do."

Monica swallowed hard a couple times, fighting a losing battle to reign in her sorrow.

"What am I going to do, Rach?" she asked breathlessly, tears still streaming into her hair. "What am I going to do?!"

###

Chandler winced as he opened the front door to Felicia's house so hard it slammed against the wall. He'd opened it too fast and his reaction to stop it had been too slow as he staggered inside.

Felicia looked up from the piles of legal documents on the kitchen table and walked over to him.

"Jesus, Chandler, how drunk are you?" she asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"Pretty drunk," he slurred, trying to give her a little smile as his hand gripped the kitchen counter.

"Tell me you didn't drive here like this," she said, a somewhat disgusted look on her face.

"Cab," he mumbled out, his hand slipping off the counter.

"Here," she said, pulling his arm over her shoulder and leading him to the couch in the living room. "I…assume you saw Monica?"

"Yep," he said with a big nod as he bounced down on the couch. "Yep. She's…she said she's comin' in the mornin'."

"Oh…good," Felicia said, with a little nod. Then she grinned at him. "Well, you'll be in a sorry way, I'm afraid. Do you always get this drunk when you hang out with her?"

He furrowed his brow at the question, his inebriated mind trying to make sense of it. Did he get drunk _with_ her? No, no only without her. He got drunk _without_ her. When he wasn't with her. He got drunk because he wasn't with her.

He just shook his head "no" and winced at the pain that shot in-between his temples as he did so. She helped him take off his jacket and rubbed his back.

"Did you tell her how crazy it is that she's here now and you'll be in New York next week?" she asked slowly, beginning to wonder exactly why he let himself get so wasted. He'd told her a couple weeks ago that he'd have to go to New York to close on a house for one of his clients who lived in NYC during the offseason, but he'd never really told her much about his friends who lived there, let alone his former girlfriend. Now she was _very_ curious. She seriously began to wonder if that trip, coupled with seeing his ex, brought upon his current condition.

"I…I," he slurred, eyes half closed, "don't think I told her…can't remember."

Felicia raised her eyebrows, cocked her head to the side and studied him. Clearly questioning him tonight was going to do her no good.

"You are hammered," she sighed, shaking her head. "I suppose I should let you sleep it off and get back to work."

She kissed his cheek and laid flat one of the pillows at the end of the couch.

"You're not going to be of any use to me tonight anyway," she teased.

He turned to look at her, trying to make his eyes open wider.

"Huh?" he asked, as a slow grin came to her lips.

She was so pretty he thought, as he attempted to focus on her face. Really pretty. Not drop-dead gorgeous like Monica, but…pretty. She wasn't like Monica. Well, in some ways she was like Monica - dark hair, beautiful smile, organized, smart. She was kind of like Monica.

He squinted at her, his confused mind cloudy with thoughts of his former girlfriend, overflowing with the feelings spending time with her again brought to the surface of his heart.

"The girls have been asleep for hours," Felicia said softly, patting his knee, and standing. "But, I don't think you're in any shape to…"

She gasped when he grabbed her arm, pulling her down on his lap, with a look on his face she'd never seen before.

"Chandler…" she whispered, her confused eyes questioning him.  
Suddenly he kissed her, sloppily at first. She pulled back so he reached up and kissed her again. This time she responded to him and kissed him back, deeply.

As he kissed her deeply in return, Chandler tried hard to make his mind focus on the woman in his arms and not the woman who he'd spent the whole night trying to drink back into the recesses of his memory. He tried hard not to let himself wish the woman he was holding was someone else, pretend she was someone else.

But as he laid her down on the couch, Felicia unbuttoning his shirt and moaning in his ear, he could only think of one woman. He could only see _her_ eyes shining, feel _her_ light touch burning, smell _her_ scent lingering. So he gave in and he let himself pretend the woman in his arms was Monica.

And he let himself go.


	8. Chapter 8

_Send My Love (To Your New Lover)_

Chandler leaned his forehead against the medicine cabinet mirror over the sink in Felicia's bathroom, feeling like he'd been hit by a truck and knowing that feeling wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

He plopped two more dissolvable tablets in his plastic water cup in a futile attempt to alleviate the pounding in his head. He hadn't been that drunk in a long time. He couldn't recall the last time he was this hung over - probably New Orleans.

Well, that made sense, he thought wryly. That was the last time he'd tried to drink Monica off his mind. It didn't work very well then and it sure as hell didn't work last night.

He took a sip of the concoction in his hands with a grimace then looked at himself in the mirror. He supposed he looked presentable enough. Luckily he had a few clean clothes he could choose from in the back of Felicia's closet. He'd pulled out clean jeans and an olive green pullover, long-sleeve t-shirt for breakfast. He'd "come in" the house just 10 minutes prior, sneaking first out the back and then ringing the front doorbell. Hallie had answered the door and welcomed him in with a hug, quickly followed by Sadie, who raced to him, thrilled to see her "Chander."

Felicia didn't want the girls to know he was there on the rare times he stayed the night, thinking it might be too confusing for them. So most nights he headed back to his place after they'd spent time together, but last night he was in no condition to do so. And, of course, his car was still parked in a downtown parking garage.

His girlfriend, who had left him asleep as she got up with her daughters earlier in the morning, had had to stifle a giggle when she handed him the Alka-Seltzer tablets as he walked back to the master bathroom he'd just left minutes before. She wore a bemused look on her face, but when their eyes met there was something in the soft way she looked at him that made Chandler very uncomfortable and leery as to what it might mean.

Chandler sighed as he looked down into his fizzing water, then at the closed bathroom door beyond it. He briefly shook his head, not remembering much from last night, other than being acutely aware that Monica was at the forefront of his mind and center of his heart as he made love to Felicia. That much he knew.

He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply as he leaned against the bathroom vanity behind him. God, seeing Monica again, holding her in his arms if only for a brief hug or two, had felt amazing. No, it had felt more than amazing, more than just…familiar. It was perfect, absolutely perfect to hold her body against his once again, to feel the brush of her fingertips, the graze of her lips on his cheek. They'd always fit together so beautifully, like the last two pieces of a gigantic puzzle - an utterly complete picture.

Only their picture contained a thousand unspoken words as it hung askew on the invisible walls of the past. There was always a story behind that flawless image everyone else saw, even one that seemed to radiate "together forever," as theirs once had.

Chandler opened his eyes and stared forlornly at the tile pattern on the bathroom floor, knowing full-well that nothing…n _othing_ was perfect.

He lifted his cup back to his lips and had a mouth-full of hangover relief as the doorbell rang. His eyes grew wide and he swallowed hard, feeling the burning in his throat and the pounding in his chest, as the thought of hiding behind the shower curtain for the duration of breakfast fleetingly crossed his mind.

Sucking in his breath he placed his cup on the vanity and turned, stuffing one hand in his pocket and grabbing the doorknob with the other, his eyes glancing heavenward as he searched longingly for any help he could find.

###

Monica clutched the handles of her shopping bag tightly in one hand and her purse strap in the other, trying to control her breathing and slow her speeding heart as she heard the doorbell ring fade and a stampede of small feet racing toward the front door from the other side.

After a very fitful night of sleep, during which she picked up her cell phone a half-dozen times to cancel, she finally drug herself out of bed and got ready for her visit to Chandler's girlfriend's house.

The whole morning felt surreal. She was going through the motions but not a bit of it made any sense to her. She was going to his girlfriend's house. His _girlfriend_ …and she was not her. She hadn't been "her" for years, and yet it still felt and sounded strange to have someone else hold that position in his life. His new life.

All the while she got ready Monica had fought with herself. She wanted to see him again as much as she wanted to just run to the airport. When she finally walked down to the front desk to inquire after the address, she felt both disappointment and relief in equal amounts as the desk clerk initially frowned at her question. Then the night manager showed up and handed her a slip of paper, wearing a big smile, and she knew then she had no choice.

She decided to focus on the "seeing Chandler" part and not the part that made her want to down copious amounts of Pepto-Bismol, a la Ross following his wedding to Emily all those years ago. Ironic, Monica thought, that she now knew almost exactly how he felt being asked to give up Rachel back then, even though the circumstances were different.

Yet she believed it was the same, this feeling of preparing to finally let someone go…completely…even if your heart was begging you not to. Even if just the thought of watching them live a life apart from you made you physically ill.

Monica took a deep breath and planted a smile on her face as the door began to open, and in half a second more she found herself face-to-face with Felicia.

"Hello, Monica?" Felicia said, her warm smile faltering just a touch as she took in the absolutely stunning woman standing on her front stoop.

"Yes," Monica replied, swallowing hard as she looked at the beautiful woman who welcomed her. A small part of her really wanted to believe his girlfriend was homely, but Felicia most certainly wasn't. Her light brown eyes seemed to match her flowing golden brown hair in the morning sunshine. She was a couple inches taller than Monica, but slim and fit. The expression on her face was friendly and her smile was genuine as she opened the door wider to welcome in their guest.

Monica had instantly wanted to hate her, but upon first impression at least, found she couldn't.

"Hi, Monica, I'm Felicia," she said, as Sadie quickly popped out from behind her mother's slacks and waved.

"Hi," the 3-year-old said, completely unabashed. "Are you Chander's friend?"

Monica couldn't help but smile back at the little preschooler with a brush of freckles on the bridge of her nose.

"Yes, she is," Felicia answered, closing the door behind Monica and motioning her into the kitchen. "This is his friend Monica, from New York. Monica, these are my daughters, Sadie and Hallie."

She pointed to each of her little girls. Hallie gave a small smile and wave in return.

"It's nice to meet you," Monica said, smiling at them both. They each looked like mini versions of Felicia, though Hallie's hair was darker than her mother's or sister's.

"We're glad you could come, Monica," Felicia said politely, taking Monica's jacket from her as Sadie grinned at their guest, then peaked into the shopping bag Monica had placed on the floor beside her.

"Sadie!" Felicia scolded.

"Oh, it's OK," Monica said, squatting down and pulling a couple items from the bag. "I wanted to bring something as a thank you, but I wasn't sure…"

"Hello Kitty!" Sadie squealed as Monica pulled one plush toy from the bag.

Monica looked up a little apologetically at Felicia.

"I…I hope you don't mind," she said, nervously. She'd gone to the corner convenience store at the hotel in search of a hostess gift and had stumbled across a bin full of plush kid characters - Hello Kitty, Dora the Explorer, Barney. She bought a couple, thinking that no matter what she thought of Felicia, it was clear Chandler cared about the little girls in his life and Monica, in her own way, wanted to acknowledge that.

"Of course not," Felicia said, with a wave of her hand as she walked across her kitchen.

Monica pulled out a Dora doll and Hallie's eyes lit up as she walked over to her with a big smile on her face.

"Did Chandler tell you who they liked?" Felicia asked, with a somewhat nervous half-laugh as she moved to take her egg casserole out of the oven. "If not, you guessed well."

"No," Monica said, smiling at Sadie as she hugged Kitty. "I have a nephew, but he's almost 9 now and I'm not allowed to buy stuffed stuff for him anymore."

Felicia laughed a little at that and nodded. Monica looked around the beautiful kitchen, a touch of envy stinging her, and wondered where Chandler was. Hallie caught her eye and Monica smiled

"So you like Dora?" she asked Hallie, who nodded, then proceeded to tell Monica, who once again crouched down to the little girl's eye level, all the reasons why Dora was the coolest explorer.

It was at that moment Chandler quietly stepped around the corner to the kitchen. He'd heard the greetings from the hallway, he'd heard Monica's voice and the excitement of the girls. When he gazed into the room buzzing with all activity, his breath caught, his eyes immediately landing on his smiling ex-girlfriend. None of the females in the room initially noticed he was there, so he soaked in the sight before him.

Both Felicia's daughters crowded around Monica, who smiled and nodded, listening intently to what Hallie and Sadie were saying. Her face was glowing as she seemed to hang on their every word, completely enraptured in whatever they had to say.

It came as natural to her as the sun rising in the east, the level of comfort she had with children, Chandler thought. A soft smile came to his face as he crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe, watching them interact with each other, tears stinging his eyes. Felicia was a good mother and she loved her girls, but Monica was something all-together different. He'd seen it with Ben, he'd seen it with the triplets. When she was around kids, or really around anyone who needed to be taken care of, her instincts kicked in instantly and it was a breathtaking sight to behold.

He stared at her, heart in his throat, trying hard not to think of what might have been if…

"Chander!" Sadie squealed, finally noticing him from across the room. She sprinted toward him, her new Hello Kitty doll in tow, and put her arms up as she approached him.

Monica quickly rose to her feet and felt her heart constrict as she watched Chandler swiftly picked Sadie up in his arms, pulling the gleeful little girl close, almost as though she was his own.

"Whoa, Pumpkin Girl," Chandler said as Sadie thrust Hello Kitty in his face. He crossed his eyes and she giggled.

"Who's that?" he asked, furrowing his brow in mock confusion.

"Hello Kitty!" she squealed.

"Who?" he teased.

"Hello Kitty!" she said again, this time flashing a little 3-year-old temper.

"Huh," Chandler said, still acting flummoxed. "Never heard of her."

"Yes you do!" Sadie said, completely indignant now, making Chandler chuckle.

"And who's this?" Chandler asked Hallie, who'd walked over to the two of them.

"Dora," Hallie smiled, then turned and pointed to Monica. "Your friend is here. She brought us presents."

Chandler grinned at Hallie, then looked up and locked eyes with Monica across the room. Monica swallowed heavily, tears catching in the back of her throat, her emotions swiftly attempting to overwhelm her as she watched him gracefully take on this fatherly role. She keenly recalled how she always, always thought he'd be an incredible dad, and here she was witnessing just a wisp of the proof - with another woman's children.

She gathered her composure as best she could and grinned gently back at him, unable to find her voice even for a simple "hello."

Felicia turned from the counter and was just about to speak when she caught the gaze that passed between them - a delicate, familiar look mirrored on both their faces. Her heart started to race as she diverted her eyes and cleared her throat.

"Girls?" she said, taking a deep breath. "What do you say to Monica?"

Felicia's eyes darted to their guest. Monica's gaze broke from Chandler's as he let Sadie down on the floor. Both girls turned to Monica and said "thank you."

Monica smiled back at them and nodded "you're welcome."

"OK," Felicia said with a tight smile. "Breakfast is ready. Please go wash your hands. Hallie? Help your sister."

Both girls left for the bathroom as Felicia picked up the casserole dish, then turned to Chandler.

"Sweetheart," she said sweetly to him, casting a small glance Monica's way. "Would you help me, please?"

###

Breakfast was as calm as could be with two little girls at the table, but they served as a welcome distraction to Monica, who felt a surge of jealously every time Felicia leaned into Chandler or he would turn to briefly smile at her during their snippets of conversation.

Monica watched in awe as Chandler stepped up to get more juice for Sadie, or another muffin for Hallie. He fit into this little family like he'd been there all along and not just a couple months. Watching him was both heartwarming and heartbreaking for Monica.

She'd learned the two of them met when Felicia took on that case with the pro athlete who had the six kids. A family trial lawyer, Felicia was the attorney the children's mothers hired to help plead their case. Chandler met her during the housing negotiations that followed.

They talked about Pat, and Chandler commented the he was just an older version of Joey, making Monica grin. She noted the ease with which Felicia talked about her ex-husband, the girls' father, and understood more as to why she'd invited Monica over for breakfast. Felicia was completely over Pat. Monica surmised that Pat was over Felicia, since he on good terms with Chandler.

Therein lied the difference, Monica thought. She wasn't over Chandler, though she was trying hard at this breakfast to pretend she was.

When Hallie and Sadie were finished, they took off Hallie's bedroom to play and the adults were left to carry on the conversation alone.

"So, you said you have a nephew?" Felicia asked, placing a hand on Chandler's knee and picking up her mug of coffee.

"Yes," Monica said, trying to keep her eyes from staring at Felicia's hand. "Yes, Ben. He's almost 9…"

"Almost _9_?" Chandler interrupted, surprise in his voice. "Wow, I can remember the day he was born…"

Suddenly he shifted in his seat, Felicia's hand falling from his knee. He couldn't look Monica in the eye, knowing what look he'd find there. He leaned forward, elbows on the table top, and folded his hands together under his chin, his eyes gazing past Monica's shoulder.

Monica took a deep, shaky breath, looking at him and knowing exactly what he was thinking. Felicia looked between the two of them quizzically, then pushed the conversation in another direction.

"Is he your sister's son or…" she asked. Monica cleared her throat, looking back at Felicia.

"My brother, Ross," Monica said quietly. "He and, um, Chandler were roommates in college. That's how…that's how we met."

"Oh," Felicia said. "I thought you were neighbors…"

"We were," Chandler said, with a nod, blinking his eyes then turning to Felicia. "Monice and Rachel lived across from me and Joey."

"Ah…" Felicia said, then added a little hesitantly. "Sounds like you were all pretty close…"

Chandler shot a sideways glance at Monica then, her eyes meeting his. She smiled softly and grinned.

"Yeah…we were," she said, swallowing the tears in her voice. She cleared her throat again.

"Yeah," she continued. "My brother, Ross, and Rachel actually used to date…"

"Did they ever…" Chandler started, genuinely curious. Monica rolled her eyes.

"Nope," she said, and he shook his head, looking down with a grin.

Felicia furrowed her brow and Monica waved her hand.

"They were always very off and on," she said, dismissively. "Then there's our friend Phoebe, she's my former roommate. She kinda rounded out the six of us. We were…they're all like…we're…family."

Chandler, head bowed again, squeezed his eyes closed a moment then briefly nodded his head.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the three. Monica took a sip of her coffee as Felicia slowly spun her mug in her hands on the table. It was Monica who finally broke the uncomfortable moment hanging over them. She couldn't let her mind or her heart stay in the place it was at that moment or she was sure she would break down in Felicia's kitchen.

"Phoebe, ah, Phoebe is actually dating a lawyer now, too," she said, changing the subject back to the present.

"You're kidding," Chandler said, lifting his head with a grateful smile to Monica.

"Nope," Monica said, a small, relaxed grin on her face. "His name is Mike and they've been dating a while now, close to a year."

"Pheebs? With a lawyer?" he asked. "That sounds way too…normal."

Monica's grin widened.

"Well, he did quit practicing law to start his own piano bar…" she said and Chandler chuckled.

"Now, that makes more sense," he said with a smile. She smiled back at him.

Felicia's heart started to pound hard as she watched the two of them smile at each other. She couldn't help but think Monica was a nice person, but it was very clear to her that the woman still had feelings for Chandler. So, Felicia decided to make it known to Monica that she was very much aware of Chandler's upcoming trip to New York.

"Well, it sounds like you have a lot of people to catch up with next week," Felicia said, giving Chandler a tight smile. He looked over at her quickly as Monica's heart started to race.

"Next week?" she asked, confusion on her face as she looked at Chandler.

"Oh, didn't he tell you?" Felicia asked, now realizing that he actually hadn't said anything about his trip to his ex-girlfriend. "He's…he's got to go to a closing in Manhattan on Wednesday."

Chandler raised his eyebrows at Felicia as his face turned a little pink. Felicia looked at Monica and couldn't help but notice the woman's face light up. Chandler sighed, the buried pain in his head making a roaring comeback.

"Yeah, I…" he started, fiddling with his coffee mug handle. "I'll be there overnight. I…I was gonna call Joey this weekend…"

He didn't say he'd _toyed_ with the idea of calling Joey, but never intended to see anyone else while he was there. It was all out in the open now, though, and he instantly knew he wouldn't be able to avoid seeing the whole gang now.

"That's…that's great," Monica said, trying to keep the excitement out of her voice. "Everyone would love to see you."

Chandler doubted that.

"Yeah?" he asked, very skeptical, but she nodded, trying to keep a huge smile off her face.

Felicia, now wishing she hadn't said a word about his trip, glanced at her watch just as a cab honked its horn outside the front window.

"Is that for you, Monica?" she asked, as calmly as she could.

Monica glanced at her own watch and her eyes grew wide.

"Yes, oh, time got away from me, I've gotta go," she said. They all stood and Felicia asked Chandler to get the girls to say goodbye.

When he'd left the room, Monica grabbed her purse and jacket then looked at Felicia. She saw apprehension behind Felicia's eyes and knew what it meant. A rush of emotions passed silently between them until Monica finally smiled warmly at her.

"Thank you for inviting me," she said, softly. "I really appreciated meeting your girls and…and I can…I can see that…he's…happy."

Felicia, who had actually been gearing up for a terse exchange, was taken aback.

"Thank you," Monica said, a catch in her throat, "for taking care of him. He's the best…"

She lowered her eyes, and for just a moment Felicia felt a rush of sympathy for her.

Finally Felicia nodded and whispered, "he is."

Monica had tears in her eyes as they rose to meet Felicia's just as the girls rushed into the kitchen. They each gave Monica a hug and "thank you" once again for their toys. They waved goodbye as Chandler walked Monica outside, closing the door behind him.

Monica put up one finger to the cab driver and turned to Chandler. He took a deep breath, hands on his hips as he looked down into her eyes.

"The girls are adorable," she said softly, searching his apprehensive face. He nodded.

"And…Felicia…" she started, dropping her head a moment then looking back at him. "She's…she seems very nice…good for…a good person."

Chandler nodded again, lump in his throat, as she looked away. He gently put a hand on her arm.

"I know this wasn't the most…comfortable brunch in the world," he said softly. "But…I'm really glad you came and I'm…I'm very happy we're…friends again."

He smiled softly at her and she smiled back.

"Me, too," she said, looking into his eyes, "and I'll see you next week."

She gave him a big smile, which he returned before sighing.

"Gotta go before the firing line sometime, I guess," he said, shaking his head.

"No," she grabbed his arm, wanting to reassure him. "It will be wonderful to…have you with us again."

His breath caught as he looked down into her bright blue eyes, and he had to fight the urge to kiss her goodbye. Instead he pulled her to him.

"Thanks for coming to California, Mon," he whispered against her hair.

"Thank you for answering your phone," she whispered against his chest, closing her eyes and breathing deeply.

Finally he stepped back and she turned to walk down the stoop and to the cab, trying to hide her watery eyes.

She waved at him before she disappeared inside the car and he waved back, watching the taxi make its way down the street. He breathed a sigh of relief, the morning having gone better than he expected it to.

He opened the front door and walked back into Felicia's house. She stood at the sink, then turned when he walked back into the kitchen giving her a small smile.

She didn't return it.

 _ **NOTE: So sorry for the long wait for this one. Hopefully the longer chapter makes up for it a little. :)**_

 _ **And, I don't know about you, but I can't wait to get Chandler to NYC. ;) Getting closer…**_


	9. Chapter 9

_Love in the Dark_

"Where are the girls?" Chandler asked, stepping slowly into the kitchen.

Felicia put down the towel she was holding and crossed her arms before she spoke.

"I sent them upstairs to Hallie's room," she said evenly.

Chandler nodded, but otherwise didn't move. For a moment they just stared at one another, a myriad of emotions crossing Felicia's face. Chandler swallowed heavily and took a deep breath, crossing his arms, too.

"So that was Monica," she said, flatly.

"Yes."

"She seems nice."

"She is," Chandler said, feeling blood rushing past his temples.

"She's stunningly beautiful," Felicia said, her heart pounding as she narrowed her eyes at him. Chandler was sure there was no correct way to respond to that, so he didn't.

"You know," Felicia said, taking a small step toward him, her eyes flashing, "it would have been nice to know that you are still in love with her _before_ she stepped foot in my house."

"What?!" he asked as he blinked and took a step back in shock, but he couldn't keep the blush from creeping into his cheeks.

"Chandler, I read body language for a living," she said, her voice shaking a little as her eyes began to fill with tears. "I know what I saw between the two of you…"

"Well, you're…you're wrong," Chandler said, defensively. "It's…I'm not…it's over between…her and me…"

Felicia let out disbelieving half laugh and stepped toward him.

"Bullshit," she said hotly, now standing right in front of him. "I saw it! I saw it…on your face. It was the same…look I…thought you meant for me…last night."

She stopped and sucked in her breath, but held her tears back. Chandler searched her face, wishing to God he knew exactly what she was talking about, though he feared deep down that he already did.

Felicia glanced toward the stairs a moment before she continued.

"You have _never_ made love to me like you did last night," she whispered fiercely to him, searching his eyes. "You always hold back but not…not...but you weren't making love to me, you were making love to _her_!"

Chandler sucked in his breath and put his hands on her shoulders, somewhat surprised when she didn't immediately back away.

"I was…with _you_ , Felicia," he said softly, trying to convince her, himself.

"No, you weren't," she spat out and he stepped back.

"Then where the hell was I?" he snapped, putting his hands on his hips.

"You were plastered off your ass!" she said, pointing at him. "Why?! Why, Chandler?!"

"OK, fine!" he near shouted before glancing at the stairway himself. He didn't want the girls to see or hear any of this any more than Felicia did. He tried to calm his tone. "We hadn't seen…I hadn't seen her in three years, OK? Not since…it was…it hit me hard, OK?"

Felicia didn't say anything.

"Look," Chandler said, taking a deep breath. "It's over. It's completely over, OK? I'm here and she's in New York…"

Felicia rolled her eyes at that, thinking about his trip the following week.

"So you're telling me it's over because of geography?" she said, sarcastically.

"No! I…ah!" he turned away and took a few steps toward the other end of the kitchen, Felicia following him with her eyes. He was getting more and more frustrated, by the conversation and his own feelings, which he was trying desperately to suppress. His head started to pound harder, from the confrontation and lingering effects of the night before.

"How long were you with her?" Felicia asked, and Chandler could tell by her inflection that she was in full cross-examination mode now.

"Two years," Chandler said, dropping his head, his back still to her.

"And you two were friends for how long before that?" she continued. He threw his head back and squeezed his eyes closed.

"Ten," he sighed.

"So you were close for 12 years and then, what? Nothing?" she asked. He turned around then.

"That's right," he said sharply.

"Why?"

"I…I caught her with her ex, OK?" he said quickly, throwing up his hands and shrugging his shoulders. "OK? I caught her kissing her ex-boyfriend after he'd proposed to her!"

That bit of information seemed to soften Felicia just a touch.

"Oh," she winced a little. "Is...is she with him…still?"

Chandler saw the ray of hope light in her eyes and he tried to ignore it.

"No," he said, wearily.

Felicia's eyes widened a moment, then she squeezed them closed.

"Well, that would explain why she's still in love with you," she whispered more to herself than to him.

He looked at her sharply then, his emotions threatening to spiral out of control. His heart was breaking and he couldn't pinpoint exactly why, but in that moment he was desperate to calm Felicia down and reassure her of…something.

He reached for her just as she looked up into his eyes and asked a question that felt more like she'd slapped him.

"Do you still love her, Chandler? Do you?"

He stood still a moment, letting that question sink in, knowing the answer but also knowing that the answer didn't really matter. Finally he reached for Felicia and took her hand in his.

"It's over, Felicia," he said, looking as best he could into her eyes. "Monica and I are…done. I…I prom…"

"Don't make promises you can't keep, Chandler," she whispered quickly, cutting him off, then backing away from him. He hadn't answered her question.

She cleared her throat and walked over to the sink, grabbing the dish towel once again. Chandler put a hand to his forehead.

"I…I don't think you should pick Sadie up from school until you…until after New York," she said, matter-of-factly, making herself busy with the breakfast dishes.

"Wh…why not?" he asked, a sudden, new pain making its way into his heart.

"I just don't think…" she sighed, and he could tell she was trying to hold back her tears, and he felt awful because of it.

"They've been through so much in the past couple of years…"

"Felicia, I will come back," he said, walking over to her and putting a hand on her shoulder. "I'll only be gone one night…I…"

She turned to him, looking into his eyes, seeing only confusion and apprehension within them. She sighed and swallowed heavily again.

"I think you should leave now," she whispered.

"Felicia…"

"No," she said, placing her palm against his chest and pushing him away. Her watery eyes looked into his. "Please go."

Chandler swallowed hard and backed away.

"If that's what you want, I'll go, but…" he tried one more time, glancing up the staircase once again.

"We'll talk about it when you come back from New York," she said, trying to give him a small smile.

"Yeah?" he asked, unsure. She nodded.

"OK," he said, glancing toward the stairs one more time.

"I'll tell the girls you…had to go," she said sadly.

He picked up his jacket, then turned back to her.

"This isn't over," he said quietly, his eyes briefly meeting hers. "OK?"

Felicia took a deep breath and nodded. He nodded back and turned to walk out, closing the front door behind him.

"Maybe not yet," she whispered after him, a catch in her throat.

She turned back to the sink and watched him from the window as he walked down the sidewalk, tears finally flowing down her cheeks.

###

"Monica!" Ross said in relief as he bounced up from the chair in the living room as Monica came into her apartment.

"Why did you call us _after_ your fight landed?" Rachel demanded walking over from the couch, followed closely by Phoebe and Joey.

"Yeah," Joey chimed in. "We could have met you at the airport!"

Phoebe took Monica's suitcase from her grasp then put a hand on her arm.

"Are you OK?" she asked.

Monica sighed as she looked at the worried faces of her friends then turned back to Phoebe, giving her a small smile.

"I'm…I'm fine," she lied, crossing her arms and hunching her shoulders as she walked into the living room toward her bedroom. The four looked at one another.

"But Monica, honey, why didn't you…" Rachel started.

"Because I didn't want _this_ at the airport," Monica snapped, somewhat exasperated as she turned back to them. Her friends looked a bit taken back and she instantly felt guilty. She knew they were worried she was going to head into a downward spiral again.

"Look, I'm sorry," she sighed, relaxing her shoulders. "I needed…I just needed a little time before I…I came home."

Flying hours across the country was exhausting enough, but Monica was beyond tired. She was emotionally drained, her heart completely spent. It was hard enough to see him again, hard enough to talk through the past and re-live the pain; but then to see him with his new girlfriend, who was clearly in love with him, and her two children who he adored and who adored him back, it was too much.

Monica was standing in the middle of the room with her palm over her eyes when she felt a tug on her shoulder.

"Come here," Ross said softly as he took a seat in the chair once again and pulled his sister onto his lap.

"Ross…" she said, knowing she couldn't handle one of his big brother lectures at the moment.

"Sh…" he said, urging her to lay her head on his as he searched the faces of the other three for help. Nobody quite knew how to begin, so Ross cleared his throat.

"Are you _going_ to be OK?" he asked, just the thought of seeing his sister in the agony she was when Chandler left making him shudder. Monica felt it and lifted her head from his, doing her best to give him a reassuring smile.

"Eventually?" she asked. "I hope so."

"So…Rachel said you…saw him?" Joey asked a bit hesitantly.

Monica took a deep breath.

"I did," she nodded. "We, um, I met him for…drinks…yesterday…"

She could almost hear them collectively holding their breath.

"It was good, guys," she said, and she could audibly hear the exhale. "We talked…a lot. He…he doesn't…hate me..."

"There's no way he could hate you, Mon," Joey said, dismissively, but changed his expression as Monica raised an eyebrow at him.

"I don't know about that," Monica countered, "but he doesn't and I'm…I'm grateful. He…he told me…he cleared up some…of the missing…pieces from when…he…left…where he…went…"

She gasped for air then, determined that the tears in her eyes would not fall as she filled in some of the gaps for her friends. None of them knew he'd gone to New Orleans or how he ended up leaving Las Vegas to move to California. Ross rubbed her back as she spoke, at times struggling to get out her next sentence. Rachel dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.

"I am…I am glad we were able to…talk about…stuff. We are…friends again, working on being friends again," she finally said with small smile. "We actually…in some ways it felt like no time had passed at all. It felt…"

Monica dropped her head a moment, trying to collect herself enough to go on. She swallowed heavily a couple times as she looked to her friends once more. Phoebe handed her a tissue, which she accepted with a sad grin, quickly wiping at the corners of her eyes.

"He's doing well," she finally said with a slight nod, as she sat up straighter on her brother's lap. "He's a real estate broker now. Ah, Steve Young from the 49ers is one of his clients."

"Really?!" Joey said, impressed.

"Wow," Ross said, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Yes," Monica said, swallowing a couple more times before taking a deep breath and revealing the next bit of news, "and he…he has…a…girlfriend. Felicia…"

Rachel squeezed her eyes closed and then looked at Phoebe, whose mouth was in a thin line. Joey and Ross exchanged a glance and Monica didn't fail to notice it.

"I guess you all know that," she said, throwing a glance at Rachel before pointedly looking straight at Joey.

"I swear he never mentioned anything to me," Joey said, putting his palms up. "I didn't know, Mon, I would have…I swear I would have told you. I swear I didn't know."

Monica nodded, knowing he was telling the truth.

"Well, he does," she said, taking a deep breath again. "She's…she's a lawyer. Divorced. She has two beautiful little girls…who just…they just love…him…"

"He's dating someone with kids?" Phoebe said after a moment, unable to hide the surprise in her voice.

Monica nodded.

"He's really great with them, too," she said softly, looking to the floor.

"Really?" Ross asked, then he furrowed his brow. "Wait, how would you know?"

"I…ah…I met them all this morning," she said. The reaction to that was immediate.

"Chandler _introduced_ you to his _girlfriend_?" Rachel said, incredulous, thinking about how awful such a meeting would make Monica feel.

"Yes," Monica acknowledged evenly, "but it wasn't his idea. It was hers. She…she invited me to come to her house for brunch."

"Oh my God," Ross said, hotly. "What? Why?"

Monica shrugged.

"She gets along well with her ex and she wanted to meet me, I guess," she said, wrapping her arms around herself as Ross hugged her, too.

"Is he…does he seem happy?" Phoebe asked, studying Monica closely. When Monica looked at her, Phoebe almost wished she hadn't asked. The devastation on Monica's face was obvious.

Her eyes filled with tears as she nodded.

"Yes," she almost whispered, casting a watery glance at Rachel, who gave her a sympathetic look, remembering what Monica said about finding her closure. She really wondered if that was ever going to truly be possible for her friend.

"Yes, he does," Monica repeated, a little louder this time. Everyone was quiet for a moment, lost in their own thoughts and once again wondering what to say that hadn't been said before.

"I…guess…that's that, then, huh?" Ross finally said quietly.

"Not quite," Monica said, with a heavy sigh. "He's coming to New York next week."

"What?!" "Are you serious?!" "No way!" came the outburst all at once.

Monica nodded.

"He's coming to Manhattan for work," she said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. "He's only in town one night but he…he would like to see everyone…"

"Oh, he does, does he?" Ross said, long buried anger flashing. "Well, I know I'd like to give him a piece…"

"No, Ross!" Monica said, standing up and turning to her brother. Ross stood, too, and pointed at her.

"He hurt you so…badly," he said, hotly, then gestured to the gang. "Letting you, all of us, worry so much…"

"Ross!" Monica said quickly, loudly. She put her hands together in a praying motion as her eyes implored her brother. "Please, please stop. No. We…we've talked through…that. I…I understand why…"

She turned to the other three sitting tensely on the couch and took a deep breath.

"If you blame anyone, blame me," she whispered, pointing to herself, her heart catching in her throat. "Don't forget why he left. Don't forget that it was…me. _I_ was the one who hurt…him…I…I am the reason he went…away…"

"But, Mon," Ross started softly, calming again as he reached for his sister as Joey, Phoebe and Rachel all rose to their feet. She turned to her brother and shook her head.

"Please, Ross," she said, her voice strained but refusing to cry, "remember how long he was your friend, how close you were. How close we all were. Please, be…nice to him. _Please_? I want to…to be his friend again. Don't you?"

Ross looked down into his sister's earnest face and sighed, knowing no matter how much had happened between them, Monica was going to protect Chandler.

"Of course we do," Rachel quietly, stepping forward and pulling Monica into her arms.

Joey just nodded and stepped forward to hug Monica and Rachel, trying to keep himself from breaking down. Ross and Phoebe exchanged a glance of pensive resignation before joining the hug, silently vowing to support their friends - both of them.

###

"Here ya go," Rachel said, handing a margarita out the window to Phoebe, who handed it to Monica. The three girls were sitting out on the balcony. It was a clear night in the city and once Joey left for a date, Ross left, too, after he was assured Phoebe and Rachel would stay with Monica.

As Rachel made her way out the window and to her lawn chair, Monica turned her attention to an uncharacteristically quiet Phoebe. She hadn't said two words the whole time Rachel was inside preparing their drinks.

"What is it, Pheebs?" Monica asked wearily. Phoebe took a sip of her margarita before she answered her. Then she put down her drink. She was almost afraid to say what she was thinking, certain Monica would fight her, but she had to ask.

"You and Chandler…you're going to be…friends, again?" she asked.

"Yes," Monica nodded.

"You really think you can do that?" Phoebe continued.

She didn't fail to notice Monica's split-second hesitation before she nodded in the affirmative.

"Well, you can't," Phoebe said, grabbing her drink and taking a long sip.

Monica was taken aback.

"I…can't?!" she said, a touch of anger in her voice. "Why? Why can't I? Other people do it, why can't Chandler and I be friends?"

Monica threw a glance at Rachel, looking for support, but Rachel was looking wide-eyed at Phoebe.

"Because, Monica," Phoebe sighed, "you're still in love with him! Everyone knows that!"

"I…" Monica started, but Phoebe cut her off.

"You haven't been in a relationship that lasted more than two months since he left!" Phoebe said, worry for her friend etching her features. "You barely date anymore. How are you going to get any better if Chandler is back in your life? How does that work when you still love him?! And don't try to deny it because I know you told Rachel…"

"I'm not going to deny it," Monica interrupted her softly.

Phoebe, who was leaning forward in her chair ready for Monica to challenge her, was stunned.

"What?!"

"I'm not going to try to deny it," Monica said calmly, swallowing hard. "I am still in love with him, Phoebe, and I…I'm almost…I think a part of him might feel the same way."

Rachel scooted to the edge of her seat, now anxious, too.

"What do you mean?!" she said, exchanging a shocked look with Phoebe. "How do you know?"

"Well, I don't, not for sure," Monica said, closing her eyes a moment as she remembered the look on his face when they first saw each other that morning in San Francisco. She remembered the way his eyes darted away from hers at breakfast when one memory or another would surface during their conversation with Felicia.

Felicia.

Monica knew every touch, every smile she threw Chandler's way was meant as a signal to Monica that Chandler was hers. And he was.

When she opened her eyes she saw a big smile had spread across Rachel's face.

"Then all you have to do is tell him how you feel!" Rachel said excitedly. "Oh, Mon, if any couple can somehow find a way to make it work again, it's the two of you…"

Monica took a deep breath then shook her head.

"I'm not going to do that, Rach," she said.

"Oh my God," Rachel said, throwing up her hands, completely exasperated with her. "Why not?"

Monica sighed.

"Because if I do that I am no better than…Richard," Monica said quietly, a hint of disgust to her voice. Phoebe winced and Rachel pursed her lips together.

"Look, I really don't know how he feels," Monica continued after a moment, looking down into her margarita glass and fighting back the tears that sprang to her eyes. "I don't know if it is anything more than just wishful thinking on my part and I will not…I will _not_ be responsible for…messing up his life and…and giving him another…broken heart. I just won't."

She wiped her eyes with her fingertips then looked up at her girlfriends.

"If he's…if he has really moved on with…her and he…he really…loves her, then…" she said, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "I won't do to them what Richard did to us. He had no right then and I…I let him interfere and…I won't do that to Chandler. I won't put him in the position Richard put me, us, in back then."

Rachel reached for her hand and gave it a squeeze, remembering her own brush with that same decision with Ross and Emily all those years ago. Monica smiled through her tears and squeezed Rachel's hand in return before turning her attention to Phoebe again.

"But, Pheebs, I want to be his friend again," she said, her voice gaining strength. "I want us all to be friends again, even if he does live far away and is with…someone else. I think that will help me…heal. It really will."

Phoebe searched Monica's face, then nodded.

"OK," she said with a smile. "OK. Oh, it…it will be good to see him again."

Monica nodded and mouthed "thank you."

After a moment Rachel picked up her drink, wiping a stray tear from the corner of her eye and raised her glass in a toast. She cleared her throat.

"OK, well, Mon," she said, as jovially as she could, "we love you and we will be here for you, too, so you have, um, everything you will need to heal your broken heart."

Monica smirked at her as the three of them clinked their glasses together and took a sip, knowing Rachel was trying to lighten the heavy mood.

"Sounds like a great plan!" Phoebe added with as much enthusiasm as she could.

"It sure does and I'll…I'll get there," Monica said with a nod, trying to convince herself as a sad smile came to her lips. "There's just one tiny problem with that plan right now."

"Yeah?" Rachel asked, cocking her head and looking sympathetically at her friend.

Monica sighed, setting down her drink and folding her legs to her chest. She hugged them close to her as she looked out over the lights of New York, resting her chin on her knees.

"Yeah," she said softly as her gaze drifted to the dark sky above. "I left my heart in San Francisco…"

 _ **NOTE: So, don't hate me, but my heart kinda broke for Felicia in this one, I have to say. Yes, I know she stands in the way of Mondler, but when I first heard "Love in the Dark" I thought of her & this scene. OK, so that could also mean I'm just thinking about this story too much! Ha!**_

 _ **Wanted to mention a couple things I keep forgetting to - first, the one Guest who mentioned "Even Now" by Barry Manilow. Yowza! Yes, the lyrics of that song definitely apply to this fic!**_

 _ **Second - thank you to everyone who mentioned liking the icon I put together for this story. A graphic designer I am not, but I did think it turned out OK. However, if you want to see a truly awesome edit for this story, please check out my Twitter account - MondlerLover - and see the wonderful, bridge-inspired "Hello" story art created by one Miss Franzi! It's beautiful! I wanted to replace my icon on here with it, but too much of the detail was lost when I tried. So her image will live in my Twitter updates. :)**_

 _ **Franzi, like I told you, that was a sweet surprise. Thank you so much!**_

 _ **And thank you, everyone, for your reviews and for loving this little angsty fic (can I write any other kind?!). Chandler's almost there…but there are a few more twists and turns to go before, well, ya know… ;)**_

 _ **And, I'm sorry, but I'm traveling for the holidays, so it may take (even) longer for the next update.**_

 _ **Oh & OMG, those Matteney rumors yesterday…and the literal **_**world reaction** _**to them…were just precious. Such a beloved couple - on TV and off - hope they know that… :)**_

 _ **Have a Happy/Merry, everyone!**_


	10. Chapter 10

_Water Under The Bridge_

Chandler stepped onto the busy New York sidewalk, throwing a brief wave to the other real estate agent from the closing who was headed off in the other direction. He pulled the strap of his overnight bag more securely over his shoulder and stuffed his hands into his pants pockets, beginning his 12-block walk to a Manhattan hotel. Joey wasn't thrilled with him when he said he was staying downtown and not in the Village, but Chandler knew it was for the best. It would have been too difficult to stay in Apartment 19 knowing Monica was just across the hall, like always, in the apartment they used to share.

He took a deep breath and surveyed the crowd squeezed in around him. He had to admit he missed New York. While he really liked San Francisco, he missed the buzzing energy and never-ending activity of The Big Apple. When he first settled in Northern California he'd convinced himself that the laidback pace would be good for him, and in some ways it was, but it wasn't home.

Chandler drew a hand out of his pocket and checked his watch. It was almost 6, and that meant it was almost 3 p.m. back in California. Sadie would be getting out of school soon. He sighed. He'd only talked to Felicia once since he left her house on Saturday morning. They'd had a short conversation Tuesday night and throughout she had been distant, keeping her answers brief and her voice even. He'd called to tell her he landed that morning, but ended up leaving a message on her voicemail instead.

He thought of calling her again as he walked along, but quickly decided against it. His stomach was already beginning to churn, knowing there was no longer a long plane ride or a work-related meeting standing between him and facing the friends he'd abandoned so long ago.

When he called Joey Sunday, plans had already been made for Wednesday night. Chandler smirked to himself, knowing Joey had nothing to do with the plans, he was just in charge of telling Chandler what they were. He was certain Monica had arranged the whole evening, making sure his time with all of them was maximized as much as possible. He surmised that she guessed, correctly, that it would be awkward to meet up with everyone in either apartment; so he was set to meet the gang, and apparently Phoebe's boyfriend, in about an hour at the restaurant-piano bar Mike co-owned.

He had no idea what to expect. Well, he had some idea. Joey, he knew, would be Joey. He suspected Phoebe and Rachel would probably do their best to keep up appearances, especially since they were meeting in a public place that Phoebe's boyfriend helped run. But Ross…that was a different story. He expected Ross to lay into him on some level, and Chandler knew he deserved it. He knew he deserved whatever hell was coming for running away the way he did. He deserved whatever kind of torture was in store for him tonight for hurting Monica.

Monica.

Chandler shook his head and cleared his throat as he crossed the street, glancing at the hotel entrance on the other side and thinking of how ironic it all really was. He'd spent years avoiding her, years doing everything he could think of to get her off his mind and out of his heart, trying his best to put the past behind him and move on. When he met Felicia, and then her little girls, he'd convinced himself he was on a path to finding a different happiness. It wasn't what he thought his future would be, but it was good and he was content. Mostly. At least that's what he kept telling himself.

Then last week one phone call, one "hello," had turned his entire world on its head. Yet, seeing Monica after three years and spending time with her in California was one thing. Seeing her tonight, on her own turf in the city where their relationship soared from friends to lovers, was a whole other ballgame. He thought the only setting that could have been worse was London, and he wasn't convinced he'd be any more nervous, or frankly excited, if it was.

Chandler stopped short just before the sliding glass doors to the Marriott entrance flew open and closed his eyes, taking a deep, deep breath. He let it out slowly, trying to calm whatever tremor had taken over his body before he walked inside to get ready for the evening ahead.

###

Monica looked at herself in the mirror, putting the last touches of blush to her cheeks. She put down her compact on the currently cluttered vanity and picked up her mascara brush with shaking fingers. She tried once, twice, to put on another coat, but couldn't make her hands stop trembling enough to do it. In frustration she brought the brush swiftly back down onto the vanity and knocked off the compact, a stash of bobby pins and her hairbrush in the process. They landed with a clatter on the bathroom floor.

"Mon?" Rachel asked as she secured an earring and hurried across the living room to the bathroom. "You OK?"

"Yeah, yeah," Monica said as she crouched down to clean up the mess. Rachel knelt to help her. When they put everything back in its place again Rachel grabbed Monica's arm and led her to her bedroom.

"Pheebs?" Rachel said as she and Monica walked in. "Are you finished?"

"I think so," she said, with a smirk to Rachel. "That is if _you_ approve."

Rachel glared at the bemused look on Phoebe's face then turned back to Monica.

"Whatta think?"

Monica crossed her arms over her knee-length silk slip and snorted.

"Where'd you find these gems?" she asked, with a flip of her hand toward the throng of cocktail dresses covering her bedspread. She had to grudgingly admit, though, they were very pretty.

"Oh, just a few things I got at Saks on my lunch today," Rachel said with a shrug. "Nothing fancy…"

"Rachel…" Monica warned.

"What?" she said, feigning wide-eyed innocence. "You can't look drop-dead gorgeous tonight for some reason?"

Monica sighed.

"I told you I'm not going down that road, OK?" she said, thinly-veiled annoyance in her voice. "I'm not going to try to 'win him back' like we're in high school. We're all adults and…and there are real…feelings involved…and…"

"Monica," Phoebe interrupted impatiently. "We're asking you to pick a nice, new dress for dinner, not broker world peace. Now, come on, which one do you want to try on first?"

Monica cocked her head to the side at Phoebe then her eyes shifted back to the bed. She took a step forward and looked over the clothes her friends had picked out for her. She twisted a ring on her right finger as the knots in her stomach cinched up tighter. She'd be seeing him again in less than an hour and, despite what she'd just told her friends, she _did_ feel like a girl going on a first date with the biggest crush of her life. But she was determined to be as calm and cool as possible - as "Monica" as she could be back when they were just friends, back before London, before they fell in love.

She knew that approach was the only one that had a fighting chance of getting her through the evening.

She ran her fingers over a red dress then a black one, before her eyes settled on a strapless, simple royal blue number at the edge of the bed.

"That one, I guess," she said with a nervous half-shrug, bending down to examine it more closely.

Rachel and Phoebe shared a smile over Monica's bowed head. That was the one they wanted her to pick.

"Great choice," Rachel said with a smile as Phoebe gingerly picked the dress up and unzipped the back of it for Monica.

###

Chandler paid the driver for the brief trip from hotel to restaurant then stepped out of the cab. He tugged on his deep khaki sports coat, pulling his light blue sleeves down through its cuffs. He nervously ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat. Well, he thought, it's now or never.

He opened the door and blinked as his eyes adjusted to the mood-setting darkness as he entered. On a small stage in a corner he saw a currently empty Baby Grand standing out against a red velvet curtain backdrop. He noticed a small dance floor just between the sleek black bar and a large smattering of tables, each aglow with candlelight centerpieces and soft white bulbs overhead. The place definitely had a 1950s steakhouse throwback feel to it. It was cozy and laid out for a leisurely dining and entertainment experience.

His eyes now accustomed to the light, he scanned the tables already occupied by local patrons. The place was probably half-full, but he didn't see anyone he recognized.

"Sir?" said a hostess who he hadn't noticed was standing not two feet from him. She smiled at him. "Are you looking for your party?"

"I, uh, yes," he started, furrowing his brow. "Yes, I…huh. I'm sorry. I'm not sure whose name it's under…"

"Chandler?" asked a male voice he didn't recognize at it emerged from the shadows. Chandler turned to the man as he stuck out a hand to him. The man smiled at the hostess, who took a step back to her post.

"I'm Mike Hannigan," he said with a smile as Chandler shook his hand.

"Nice to meet you," Chandler said with a nod. "Nice place you have here."

"Thanks," Mike replied. "We're getting there. It's nice to meet you, too. Phoebe's, ah, told me a…a lot about you."

Chandler's face turned a shade crimson and he briefly dropped his head.

"I'm sure she has," he said with a slightly embarrassed grin. "I hope _some_ of it was good."

Mike just smiled at that.

"Come on," he said, gesturing to Chandler and leading him around the bar, toward the dining area. "Phoebe just got here. She's in back. Everyone else should be here any minute. Pheebs said Joey was coming from an audition…"

Right at that moment both Phoebe and Joey emerged from the back of the restaurant, Phoebe having met Joey at the employee entrance. Both froze when they saw Mike and their long-lost friend making their way to the reserved round table not too far from the Baby Grand. Mike saw them first and smiled.

"Chandler…" he nodded over to where they were standing, and Chandler turned his head.

For the briefest moment the three of them just looked at one another, each noticing how they'd changed in the last three years, and how they'd stayed the same. Chandler swallowed heavily as a smile tried to play on his lips. Finally Phoebe put her palm over her mouth, blinking back tears, as a big smile broke across Joey's face. They walked over to him.

"Dude," Joey said heavily, reaching out for the man he would always consider a brother. He grabbed him and pulled him into a big bear hug. Chandler held on tight, squeezing his eyes closed to keep his own tears at bay. He smiled at Joey when their hug broke, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"It is so good to see you, man," Joey said, the smile never leaving his face. "Been too long, dude, too long."

"I know, I know," Chandler whispered as he nodded his agreement, then he gave Phoebe a little grin, barely able to look in her eyes.

"I don't know if I should hug you or punch you in the nose," she whispered to him, tears at the corners of her eyes.

Chandler let out a strangled laugh.

"You can do both, Pheebs," he said with his lopsided sided grin on his face. "Though this _is_ a new jacket…"

"Oh, come here," she said as she pulled him to her, tears now falling to her cheeks. Joey wiped his eyes.

"I'm still furious at you, Chandler Bing," she said as she pulled away. Mike handed her a tissue and put his arm around her waist. Chandler nodded again.

"I understand," he said, clearing his throat.

"You look great," Joey said, gesturing up and down at Chandler.

"Well, ah, thank you," Chandler said, fighting the urge to needle his old friend about the comment. "You guys, too, both of you. Pheebs…Phoebe you look…very happy."

Chandler grinned as Phoebe and Mike smiled at each other, then a group at the entrance caught Mike's eye.

"I think the rest of our party has arrived," he said quietly as all eyes turned toward the hostess stand. Chandler watched as a stone-faced Ross turned toward the dining room then stopped to let Rachel pass first. Tears immediately filled her eyes as she made her way over to the table.

"Hi, Chandler," she said, her voice thick, just a step or two away from him, her eyes betraying her feelings for her friend.

"Hey, Rach," Chandler said, moving just a half step closer to her. He stopped and grinned sadly at her. "It's really…nice to…see you."

"You, too," she whispered, swallowing her tears. "We…we missed you."

Chandler couldn't find his voice, so he nodded and mouthed "me, too." Then he reached out hesitantly to give her a hug, not knowing if the pain he'd put her best friend through would cause her to back away from him. It didn't. She reached her arms around his waist and briefly squeezed him tight. Chandler closed his eyes as he hugged her, knowing a still-angry Ross was standing close behind her. Chandler could tell by the look on his face when he walked in the restaurant that he wasn't happy.

Rachel stepped over to Joey and they watched somewhat pensively as Chandler was suddenly face-to-face with Monica's brother. Neither man smiled at the other, but Chandler held his old friend's gaze as steady as Ross held his.

"Ross," he finally said with a slight nod. Ross nodded in return. The tension between the two was palpable. Mike, Joey, Phoebe and Rachel started to fan out around the table to take their seats, giving the men some space. Finally Ross cleared his throat.

"Welcome back to New York," Ross said, his voice even and flat.

"Thank you," Chandler said in return, as emotionless as he could. Then a flash of blue behind Ross caught his eye.

Ross watched Chandler closely as his old friend's eyes zeroed in on his ex-girlfriend walking up behind them. Ross was looking for any sign of emotion from him, wondering if he'd at the very least show some remorse for leaving her the way he had. He didn't have to wait long. He knew Chandler well enough to know the man was about to combust as soon as his eyes landed on Monica.

Ross's mouth fell open a bit as he watched Chandler's expression change from soft to yearning to near pain in rapid succession. He was close enough to hear his sharp almost inaudible gasp for air. He watched his hands move in his pants pockets and knew his was clenching his fists.

Not only did he care, Ross thought as his icy demeanor towards his wayward friend began to thaw just a touch, he could almost swear Chandler still had strong feelings for his sister. He didn't think they were feelings of anger either. There may be a thin line between love and hate, but Ross saw no traces of lingering resentment in the expression on Chandler's face.

Ross turned his head towards Monica and pursed his lips together. Her eyes were glued to Chandler's and her heart was shining brightly from her features. He shook his head briefly, his own heart breaking at the lovesick look on her face.

Chandler almost couldn't breathe. She was so stunning, so breathtaking, so damn beautiful he nearly forgot where he was. Her dress matched her eyes, which were framed by little loose curls that fell from her up do. She was smiling in that way she used to, that smile he remembered she would save only for him.

He felt his knees actually getting weak and they hadn't spoken one word to each other.

Monica's heart was pounding and her peripheral vision seemed blurry. He was the only thing she could see. With every fiber of her being she wanted to run to him and throw herself into his arms. Instead she swallowed hard and tried to remember the light-hearted comment she'd practiced over and over in her head on the cab ride over. Her smile slowly became a grin.

"You're still standing," she said as casually as she could, adding a little smirk. "I guess the gauntlet wasn't so daunting after all."

He smiled broadly and let out a deep, breathy chuckle.

"Twice in less than a week," he said with a little grin. "You might get sick of me pretty fast if we keep this up."

"We'll see how it goes," she said with a grin, reaching for him as he reached for her. They pulled each other into the briefest of hugs. Monica stepped past him as soon as they broke apart, wanting to ease any tension that may have been lingering between their friends at the table. She wanted this night to be a good night. She wanted him to feel comfortable with all of them again. _She_ wanted to feel comfortable. She needed that. They all did.

Chandler exhaled deeply as they all took their seats, looking around at his old friends. _OK,_ he thought, _this is good. It'll be fine. Just fine._ He watched as Mike stood up and walked over to the bar, ordering two bottles of champagne for the table.

It didn't take long for his gaze to land back on Monica, who had taken a seat across from him. She caught it and smiled. They didn't notice as their friends all looked on curiously, casting inquisitive and somewhat surprised glances to one another before turning their attention back to the former couple.

Monica and Chandler's eyes remained locked on one another, their soft grins each reflected in the low light luminating each other's faces.

 _ **NOTE: Happy New Year...**_


	11. Chapter 11

_All I Ask_

"Oh, Phoebe, you do not!" Rachel exclaimed, putting down her second glass of champagne on the table in complete disbelief.

Mike sighed and nodded his head.

"Yes!" Phoebe said, emphatically. "His name is Bob and he's a good rat!"

"Oh, Pheebs…" Monica said, squishing up her nose. "But they're so germy and…yuck!"

She shivered in disgust and Chandler grinned at her from across the table. The night had been just this side of divine. After some initial awkwardness, and once the champagne started to flow and the food arrived, the conversation fell back into the quick and easy banter that the six of them had always had. Even Mike seemed to fit right into the mix. Chandler was certain Monica was the reason it was as relaxed as it was, and he was grateful for it.

His gaze studied her profile as she ran her right hand up and down her bare left arm and shoulder, caressing herself softly, her attention turned to Phoebe. He felt a tremor go through him as she turned and caught his eye in the dim restaurant light. They each had caught the other looking in their direction at least a half a dozen times throughout the evening, each time earning a soft grin or warm smile from the other.

"Bob is not germy," Phoebe said, her voice rising just a touch, bringing Chandler and Monica's focus back to her. "He…he keeps himself very clean…"

Mike put his arm around his girlfriend in a show of support.

"They can carry rabies and…and any number of really disgusting diseases," Ross said, his face relaying that he was completely grossed out. "You really should get rid of it!"

Rachel and Monica nodded their agreement.

"I will not just 'get rid of _him_ ,'" she said, clearly offended by the thought. She glanced at Mike. "He's…he's family."

"He's a rat, Pheebs," Joey said.

"Joey has a point, honey," Mike said, smiling a little.

"Ahh!" Phoebe said, turning and glaring at Mike, then she added earnestly. "But what if I we turn him loose in the city and he…he gets hurt or he gets sick. I'd never be able to live with myself..."

"It's vermin, Pheebs," Ross said, with a wave of his hand. "He's not a real pet."

"This from the man who once rushed an illegal, exotic _monkey_ into an ER and demanded to see a 'real people' doctor," Chandler deadpanned, making air-quote gestures at Ross before he picked up his glass once again.

Rachel, who had just taken a drink, almost shot the bubbly right back out of her nose as she tried to stifle a giggle. Joey laughed and slapped Ross on the back. Monica smiled at Chandler over his champagne flute. He winked at her as he took a sip.

"He's got you there, man," Joey said with a smile.

"That was different!" Ross insisted.

"How, exactly, was that different?" Monica teased.

"Because…because…" Ross said, trying hard to be indignant. Then he grinned and shook his head at Chandler, who had his eyebrows raised in anticipation of his answer.

"Because, that was _me_ ," he said, with a smile.

"There it is," Chandler said with a chuckle that spread to everyone at the table as Mike stood up, looking at his watch.

"Time to tickle the ivories," he said as he put his hand out for Phoebe. She took it and stood, too, smiling at him.

"Yes, play us a song, you're 'The Piano Man,'" Chandler said to Mike with a nod, his lopsided grin on his face. Phoebe groaned as Joey rolled his eyes. Ross and Rachel grinned and glanced at Monica, then at each other. Neither failed to notice Monica was beaming at her ex-boyfriend. It was almost painful for them to see, it felt so much like old times.

"Chandler…" Phoebe warned even as a little smile played on her lips.

"What?" he asked, pretending to be offended. "That's better than leader of the 'Rat Pack'…"

Monica burst out laughing as Mike grinned and shook his head. Phoebe pulled her boyfriend's hand toward the Baby Grand.

"Come on," she said, mock exasperation in her voice, "he's just getting started…"

Chandler smiled back at Monica as Joey stood up, too, and slapped Chandler on the back.

"We've missed you, man," Joey said, then he cleared his throat. "Listen, I gotta…"

"Joey!" Monica said, glaring sharply at him. "You're not leaving _now_ , are you?!"

"Well, I gotta…" he gestured toward the front entrance then ran a hand nervously through his hair. "I got a…a thing."

"You've got a date," Chandler said, as he waved him away with a grin. "Go, go…"

"You sure?" he asked, afraid to look in Monica's direction.

Chandler nodded.

"Sure," he said with a nod. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Joey smiled, then turned serious.

"And you aren't gonna be a stranger anymore, right?" he asked as he pointed at him.

Chandler shook his head.

"No," he replied, casting a quick sideways glance at Monica. "No, I won't be a stranger. I promise."

"Good," Joey nodded, then pointed behind Chandler. "I gotta hit the john before I go."

"Oww...TMI, Joe," Ross said, waving him off.

The four left sitting at the table turned and looked toward the piano as Phoebe introduced Mike to the diners. They applauded politely with the rest of the crowd as a smiling Phoebe took a seat next to her boyfriend on the piano bench.

"She looks really happy," Chandler said, glancing at Rachel.

"She is," Rachel replied with a nod, smiling at the couple. "He's a great guy."

"Seems like it," Chandler nodded back.

Mike started to play a slow song and it didn't take long for one couple from a few tables over to make their way to the dance floor.

Rachel glanced at Monica and saw her head bowed as she rubbed her arm. She could tell her friend was trying hard not to look at the couple dancing. One look to Chandler found his eyes fixed on 'The Piano Man.'

Rachel caught Ross's eye. Her eyes grew wide as she nodded toward the dance floor. Ross, being Ross, had no idea what she was trying to suggest, so she nodded again.

"What?" he mouthed. She pursed her lips together and kicked him under the table.

"Ouch!" he said, looking at her, confused.

"Sure, I'd love to dance," Rachel said enthusiastically, grabbing Ross's hand and pulling him to his feet.

"You didn't have to kick me," he whispered, now understanding what Rachel was doing.

"Get there faster next time!" she whispered back.

He sighed as they walked to the dance floor, Monica shooting daggers into the back of Rachel's head with her eyes.

Ross pulled Rachel to him and glanced at the two former lovers left alone at the big round table.

"Do you think…" Ross started, then shook his head.

"What?"

"Is it just me, or do you think he still has…feelings for her, after…everything?" he asked as they moved in a slow circle on the small, hardwood floor.

Rachel shook her head.

"It's not just you…" she said sadly, glancing over at the two, who were still looking anywhere but at each other.

Ross shook his head again, pulling Rachel a little closer to him.

"Do you think leaving them…alone is a good idea?" he asked quietly.

"We'll see," she answered, taking a deep breath as she watched Chandler turn to Monica at the table.

"So…" Chandler started, his fingers fiddling with the end of an unused salad fork.

"So," Monica said nervously as she folded her hands in her lap, giving him a little smile. He cleared his throat.

"That…dinner…this all has been so much better than I ever could have hoped for," he said, grinning at her, folding his hands on the table top. "Thank you."

"Oh, I didn't do anything," she said, with a nervous flip of her hand.

"I think you did," he said, searching her face from across the dark table. She tucked a loose curl behind her ear and smirked at him.

"I may have threatened bodily harm," she said with a shrug as she absentmindedly smoothed out the tablecloth in front of her.

He laughed and she smiled, "I can still kick some good ass, you know."

"There's not a doubt in my mind," he grinned his lopsided grin and took one of her hands in his. She watched as his long fingers wrapped around hers against the dark maroon linen beneath them, warmth breaking through her hand and up her arm to the rest of her body. Her eyes fluttered open to meet his. For a moment they stared into one another's eyes, savoring the long look they both secretly had longed for all night.

"Mike's good," Chandler finally said, clearing his throat, his hand still holding hers.

"Yes," she said quietly, nodding a little.

He gave her a soft smile.

"Well, we shouldn't waste his talent sitting here," he said, his heart hammering. "Will you dance with me?"

Monica felt tears sting the back of her eyes, but smiled as she whispered "of course" and they rose to their feet, fingers still linked together.

Phoebe, seeing the two of them rising from the table, nudged Mike as he ended one song and silently asked him to play another slow one, nodding to them. Mike nodded back and started another song, with a slightly faster tempo but still an easy, soft dance flow.

Rachel's grip tightened on Ross as she watched Monica and Chandler make their way to the dance floor, her watery eyes matching the curiosity, and worry, in his. Joey emerged from the restroom and stopped dead in his tracks as Chandler's arm went around Monica's waist and hers rested on his shoulder. He swallowed hard, a pained look on his face, then slowly made his way out of the restaurant.

Chandler gave Monica a small smile as they started to move together on the dance floor, their bodies barely touching, leaving a respectable distance between them. She smiled back, her heart feeling like it was going to explode as she tried to keep herself from falling against him as he held her, as she tried not to get lost in his eyes. As she tried hard not to get lost in all their memories…

… _what I'm trying to say is, that night meant a lot to me and I guess I'm trying to say thanks._

 _Oh. Ya know, that night meant a lot to me, too, and it wasn't because I was in a bad place or anything. It just meant a lot to me because…you're really hot. Is that OK?_

 _That's OK._

 _And I'm cute, too._

 _And you're cute, too!_

 _Thank you…_

… _I'm still on London time, does that count?_

 _Oh, that counts._

 _Oh good…_

Monica closed her eyes, one emotion after another coursing through her and, without a single thought, she laid her head against his shoulder. Chandler swallowed hard, his head dropping, his chin resting just a touch against her hair. He closed his eyes and tightened his hold on her waist, pulling her closer, breathing her in…

… _if I'm the best, it's only because you made me the best._

 _Keep taking._

 _I was nothing before you. Call the other girls and ask, which wouldn't take long. But when I'm with you, and we're together…Oh. My. God._

 _Really?_

 _Oh! My! God…_

Chandler curled their entwined hands together against his chest, just over his breaking, thundering heart, knowing she had to be able to hear it as loudly as he could. He felt a lump rise in his throat as he felt her heavy breathing against his fingers as hers tightened around them.

Tears pooled behind Monica's closed eyelids as she gave in and molded her body to his. He held her tighter and moved them around the dance floor…

… _Because I'm in love with Monica!_

 _You're…you're what?_

 _Love her! That's right! I. Love. Her. I! Love! Her!_

 _I love you, Monica._

 _I love you, too. Chandler…_

Monica sucked in a deep breath against his chest, knowing she was fighting a losing battle to reign in her tears. Lips trembling Chandler released his hold on her right hand. She ran it along his jacket then up his back, both palms bracing him against his shoulder blades. His arm dropped and he grasped the other arm already resting behind her hips, instinctively pulling her completely against him in a warm, familiar, perfect embrace. Their eyes were still closed as he laid his forehead against hers…

… _that could be a 4 or a 5. It's your call._

 _It's a 4._

 _I think so, too…_

… _what if we live together and you understand what I'm saying?_

 _Live together? There've been no signs for that._

 _Me asking is kind of a sign._

 _Yes! Yes, oh yes…_

Chandler opened his eyes, seeing little teardrops at the corners of hers. He whimpered softly as his hands rose from her hips to gently cup her face. Monica gasped as her watery eyes opened and looked into his, love leaping straight from her soul into him. She ran her fingers slowly down his arms, grasping both his wrists as their eyes searched one another's faces.

He could feel her short, hot breath just inches from his slightly open mouth, his whole body screaming at him to kiss her. Monica felt weightless, floating, waiting for the moment his lips would touch hers. Praying for it like she'd prayed for nothing else, ever.

Then he remembered. His mind came roaring out of the past, thrusting him back to the present. And Chandler closed his lips, closed his eyes and dropped his head, backing away from her as the song Mike was playing came to an end.

Monica froze, her perfect fantasy world cashing down around her in the moment he started to back away. Through her tears she gazed at the tortured expression on his face and she understood. She didn't want to, but she did.

"Mon…" he started softly, his voice thick as he looked into her sad eyes.

"I know," she whispered. His eyes widened in shock and confusion as his hands dropped from her face. She raised one hand and ran it over his ear, down his jaw then smiled softly at him, stepping back. She fixed the slightly wrinkled lapel of his jacket and patted his chest with her palm. She cleared her throat and blinked the tears away from her eyes as best she could.

"Thank you," she whispered, "for the dance."

All he could do was nod, completely dumbfounded and utterly confused, as Ross and Rachel hesitantly walked over to them.

"I'm…I'm gonna go," Monica said.

"Oh, OK," Chandler said, beginning to sputter. "I…I'll m…meet you at, ah, Javu, at na…9:30, right?"

She nodded, remembering their conversation from earlier in the evening, when everything felt light and fun and perfect, which now felt like a million years ago.

"Mon?" Rachel asked, tears in her eyes. She and Ross had watched, waited, hoped and felt nearly as heartbroken as Monica when they saw them step away from one another.

"I'm ready to go," she said, trying to rally with a small smile. Rachel nodded and looked at Chandler. He looked just as stunned and heartbroken as Monica did. She reached over and briefly hugged him.

"We'll see you at Central Perk before you fly back, right?" she asked, a desperation in her voice. He nodded.

"Yes, after…" he nodded to Monica. She grinned at him and he grinned back before she turned and began to talk out of the restaurant, Rachel right behind her. Ross looked at Chandler and Chandler looked back. Ross frowned sadly and nodded to him. Chandler nodded back and watched as Ross turned and followed his sister to the entrance.

Chandler took a deep breath and dove his hands into his pockets, still standing in the middle of the dance floor, oblivious to the new song that Mike had begun. Oblivious to the couples dancing around him. He just stared at the hostess stand at the entrance, seeing nothing.

"Are you OK?" he heard Phoebe ask as she placed a hand on his forearm.

He turned his face to her and her heart broke.

"Oh, Chandler…"

He just nodded.

"Thanks, Pheebs," he said in a quiet voice. He patted her hand then squeezed it briefly. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"If you want some company…"

"No, naw, that's OK," he said, shaking his head, desperate to leave before the tears catching in the back of his throat made their way into his eyes.

"You go back," he said, with a nod to Mike. "Just…be happy. OK?"

She nodded, not trusting her voice, and pulled him into a hug.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he promised as their hug broke. She nodded again. He stepped away, giving Mike a little wave and walked quickly toward the entrance and out the restaurant's front door.

Once he was outside he gasped for air and leaned his back against the outside of the brick building, his heart feeling like it had gone through a shredder. His head was spinning, everything now so…so unclear. He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to bring himself down from the high of dancing with her. Of holding her and remembering all the ways he fell in love with her. All the ways he was still in love with her…

"Chandler…"

His eyes shot open.

"Joe?" he said, completely surprised. He swallowed heavily, trying to pull himself back together.

"Wha…what are you doing here?" he asked.

"I…ah," Joey said, stepping closer to him. "I…postponed my date."

Chandler blinked in surprise.

"Why?"

Joey sighed and frowned as he stepped over to Chandler. Chandler pushed off the outside wall and Joey put an arm around him, slapping him on the shoulder.

"I thought you might need a friend," he said quietly, concern clouding his sad eyes.

A lump suddenly formed in Chandler's throat. He grinned sadly at his old roommate and nodded, throwing an arm around Joey and patting his shoulder as the tears he was holding back finally reached his eyes.

Joey nodded back at him as he turned them away from the piano bar and they started walking together down the crowded streets of New York.

 _ **NOTE: I do believe the second half of this ranks right up there with the saddest stuff I've ever written, including**_ **For What It's Worth.** _**Maybe it's just me, but my "feels" are laying in a puddle on the floor. The bad news is the first part of the next chapter is just as sad, but…but…keep the Mondler faith, everyone. Trust me. ;)**_

 _ **Now the good news is the next chapter is almost done, so the wait won't be so long. :)**_


	12. Chapter 12

Monica set her small clutch purse down on her kitchen table as Ross turned on the light overhead. Rachel reached for her friend.

"Monica, sweetie, talk to us, please," she said, gently grabbing Monica's arm and turning her toward them. She threw Ross a pensive glance, which was mirrored on his face. Monica hadn't said anything on the cab ride back to the apartment, just looking out the window, and they were both worried.

Monica forced her eyes to focus on her friend. She gave her a sad smile then dropped her head. Rachel pulled her to her as Ross put a hand around his sister's shoulder. The hug was brief as Monica took a few deep breaths.

"Oh, Mon," Rachel said, shaking her head as she saw tears fill Ross's eyes. She wiped her eyes and gently pushed Monica's shoulders back, attempting to look into her face.

"There's still so much there," Rachel said softly, as gently as she could, "between you and…him. I think…maybe…there might be a chance…"

Monica just shook her head.

"I had my chance, Rachel," Monica said sadly, finally lifting her eyes to her. "He's…he's with…someone else and that's…that's…"

"But…but, Mon, you _still_ _love_ _him_!" Rachel implored, tears in her eyes. "You…oh, God, seeing you two together tonight was…"

"Tonight was goodbye," Monica whispered firmly, blinking back her tears, and briefly shaking her head. "That's what it was, Rach. It was goodbye to…us, our…to us."

She swallowed hard as Ross, tears in his eyes, came around and put his hands over both her shoulders. He looked sorrowfully at Rachel.

"He's with…her and…and I…it's time for me to…accept that it…it really is…it's…it's over," Monica sucked in her breath. Then she grinned through her tears. Ross and Rachel both had lumps in their throats.

"At least I'll have tonight to remember and not…" she started, then took a deep breath again. She sighed as she wiped her eyes. "I know he's…OK. I know he's…he's h-happy and he's…loved, even If I'm not the one (she cleared her throat)…we'll be friends. We'll all…we'll all see him more often now, I know we will. He'll, he'll keep in touch."

She briefly closed her eyes as she jerked her head to the side. She pressed the back of her hand to her lips then placed it over Ross's on her shoulder. He moved in front of her and she clasped both their hands.

Rachel's watery eyes glanced at Ross as he cleared his throat, finally finding his voice.

"You are going to let him go back to California tomorrow without telling him how you feel? Without asking him how he feels?" Ross asked, softly but firmly. Monica nodded.

"Why?" Ross asked, shaking his head.

Monica took a deep breath and smiled sadly at her brother, her voice thick as she answered.

"Because I love him," she said softly, "and because I love him, I have to let him go."

Ross and Rachel looked at one another, at a loss as to what to say next, both their hearts breaking. Finally Monica stepped away from them and offered a small, sympathetic smile.

"Please, don't worry about me, OK?" she said. Ross snorted and shook his head.

"Really, I will be OK," Monica said, with a determined nod. Then she looked back into their worried faces. "I do want to be alone now, though, OK? I'll be OK, I promise. I just need…"

"I don't know if, if leaving you alone is a good idea, Mon," Ross protested.

"Ross, I'm OK. I will be OK," she assured him. "Please? Just for a little while."

Ross turned to Rachel. She sighed, after one more pensive glance at her friend.

"OK, we'll…we'll go get some coffee, but we'll be back soon…" she said. "We'll be right downstairs…"

Monica nodded. "OK. OK, that's fine. I just need some…time."

Rachel nodded and squeezed her hands. Ross leaned over and gave her a kiss on the forehead, and she gave them a small smile as they walked out the door.

Once they were gone Monica stood alone in the middle of the apartment, their apartment, the place she'd been the happiest in her life and swallowed hard.

Then she dried her eyes and walked into her bedroom. Slowly she unzipped her dress and took off her slip. She kicked off her shoes and took out the bobby pins in her hair, shaking it gently as it cascaded over her shoulders. She folded her slip and placed it on top of the dresser, opening a drawer and pulling out an old t-shirt and sweatpants.

Monica walked over to her closet to hang up her new dress. She dug through the hangers in the back to find an appropriate one for her dress, knowing exactly what else she'd find buried deep within.

After she'd hung up her dress, she pulled out three other hangers, looking at the dress shirts clinging to them in the moonlight now streaming in through her window. She smiled softly, running her fingers lovingly over the fabric of each. They were all she'd kept after she'd finally packed up his clothes and shipped them to his mother's more than two years ago.

That first year he was gone she wore one to bed every night, always in the same order - the blue one he was wearing they day they came home from London, the khaki one he was wearing when he declared he loved her in front of everyone and the short-sleeved shirt he had on when he asked her if they could move in together.

They didn't hold his smell anymore, and she hadn't worn any of them in a long time, but she never felt ready to let them go. Until now. Now Monica knew she should. Now it was time.

She took one last, long look at the tangible memories of the past, then she cleared her throat. She took them off the hangers and folded them, one by one, on her bed. Then she pulled out a bag from the floor of her closet, placing them gently inside, with plans to donate them at the first opportunity she had.

Monica placed the bag back at the bottom on her closet and hung the hangers back inside.

After she closed the closet door she walked over to her bed, laying down on her back, her eyes bright as they stared at the ceiling, her heart replaying their dance in her mind. As she closed her eyes she could hear the music, she could feel his arms around her holding her tight against his body. She could hear his pounding heart against her ear.

She could feel his love, then she could feel him letting go. Tears stung her eyes, but Monica refused to let them fall. She took deep, gulping breaths and willed her body to calm down once again.

Finally she sighed and turned on her side, pulling a pillow against her chest, wrapping her arms around it. Her heart was pounding hard but her eyes were clear as she stared through the dark at the bedroom wall and for the very first time honestly thought about what the rest of her life was going to be like…without Chandler.

###

"I don't understand you," Joey said in disbelief, shaking his head over his beer, the dim lights of the dive bar they found themselves in casting shadows over the clouds on his friend's face.

Chandler shifted uncomfortably on the bar stool, his eyes never leaving the bottle in his hands.

"I've…I've moved on, Joe," he said quietly, taking a half-sip of his beer. "I…I'm in California. I'm in a different…place…a new…relationship…I…"

"I know, I know," Joey interrupted, then asked hesitantly. "I guess it's pretty serious with you two then, huh?"

Chandler half-nodded, half-shrugged.

"Yeah," he said carefully. "Yeah, I mean, I care about her a lot, and the kids…."

He stopped and grinned. Inwardly Joey groaned. It was clear from what Monica had told them about seeing him in San Francisco that Chandler was pretty taken with the little tykes.

"They're just great," Chandler said, taking another sip of his beer. "I mean, she's divorced and we're taking it really, really slow, but it's been about six months now. Felicia, she…she's a really great person."

"I'm sure she is," Joey sighed before taking a swig of his beer.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, Chandler seemingly studying his drink, Joey sensing the last hopes of Monica and Chandler ever being _Monica and Chandler_ again fading fast.

Finally, Joey nodded, picking up where he left off.

"I'm sure Felicia is great and the kids are, ya know, totally cute, but I have to ask…" he hesitated just a moment, looking pensively at Chandler. "Do you love her? Felicia? Do you love her like you loved Monica?"

The words hung between them for a moment or two, neither making a move as the question seemingly froze in mid-air. Then Chandler glanced sideways at Joey, before staring into his beer once again. Joey practically held his breath as his friend finally let out a deep sigh.

"I'll never love anyone like I loved Monica," he said softly, tears stinging his eyes. He blinked them back. God, coming to New York, coming back into his old world had turned his heart into the colossal cluster he knew it would, his friend's instincts making it just that much worse.

Joey huffed a couple times, grappling with how to respond. The look on Chandler's face was as tortured as the look Monica wore since they broke up. At that moment there was no longer a doubt in Joey's mind that there was _some_ hope left. Monica had never gotten over Chandler, and he was pretty damn sure now the feeling was completely mutual, no matter stoic the two tried to be earlier in the evening when the gang was all together.

"Then I don't get it," Joey said, aggravation creeping into his voice. "She's still so damn in love with you, Chandler…"

"No," Chandler shook his head quickly from side to side, fighting off the pain those words ignited in his heart. "We'll…we can be friends now, again. She…she will move on with…someone…new, better. Someday. I gotta…I _have_ to believe that…"

"Why?" Joey said after a moment, confused. "Why do you have to believe that?"

Chandler refused to answer, staring intensely at his beer bottle. Joey sighed.

"No, she won't," he continued. "She hasn't since you left. God, Chandler, can't you see it? Can't you see it written all over her face? We can see it, we all see it. We've lived with it…"

"Joey…" Chandler said wearily, putting his elbow on the bar top and rubbing his palm on his forehead.

"You still love her, too," Joey pointed at him, almost knocking his beer over in the process. "Don't even try to tell me you don't!"

"Look!" Chandler said angrily, slapping his palm down on the bar and turning to his old friend. "Joey, I know you want things the way they used to be, and you think we were like this 'golden couple' or something…"

"You were…"

"No, we weren't!" Chandler shot back, raising his voice. "We…we were just…just two people who had it pretty great for a while…"

"She made a mistake, Chandler, a mistake," Joey said, putting his hand on Chandler's arm. "You're gonna punish her forever because she kissed someone else? Hell, even I let you out of the box eventually."

Chandler threw back his head, rolling his eyes at the ceiling, smirking sadly to himself.

"That's not it, Joe."

"Then what? What is it?!"

Chandler looked steadily at Joey's earnest face, taking a long drink of his beer as he did so. Then he took a deep breath. He was just drunk enough, his heart just heavy enough, that everything he was holding back was bound to burst through.

"I…I wasn't…enough…for her then and I wouldn't be…I'm not…who she needs now," Chandler said, trying unsuccessfully to keep the heartbreak out of his voice. Joey just shook his head.

"It's true," Chandler nodded, ignoring Joey's doubtful expression, willing himself to continue. He cleared his throat.

"Do you…remember when I called you…when I got to Nevada?"

Joey's mind took him back to the first time he'd heard his friend's voice since he'd left Monica. It was more than three months after Chandler fled New York. Chandler was completely broken and miserable, and Joey had begged him to tell him where he was.

"Yeah, when you called and I wanted to send you money but you wouldn't tell me where you were?" Joey said, the conversation rushing back to him. Chandler nodded.

"I…" Chandler started, shaking his head in disgust at the memories from that summer. "I…drank my way through my savings and ended up at my Dad's place. I needed…I needed to make some fast cash and you joked about the sperm bank, remember?"

"Yeah…" Joey said slowly, "but if I recall the most important part of that conversation was me telling you that Monica was a complete mess without you and she never went back to Richard."

Chandler nodded.

"You did, yes," he agreed, wincing.

Joey watched anxiously, on the edge of the bar stool, as Chandler tried to find his voice in the wave of emotion he was clearly doing his best to hold back.

"I didn't expect to hear that," Chandler acknowledged quietly, with another nod. Then he took another deep breath. "I was absolutely sure she'd gone back to…him…and when you told me how…upset she was…"

He stopped and swallowed, his lips quivering. His eyes were bright as he ran a hand through his hair.

"I…" he said, his breathing heavy as he tried to get hold of himself. "I was ready to come home then, when you told me that."

Joey's jaw fell open and his eyes widened in shock.

"I was ready," Chandler whispered again, his eyes watering. "I knew I'd really screwed up, big time. I…I was ready to come…home to her and…and beg her to forgive me for…leaving; to try to find what we had and…and make it perfect again. I felt…for the first time in a long time I felt…optimistic."

Joey swallowed hard.

"Dude…why didn't you?" he asked quietly.

Chandler grinned sadly at him.

"I…there was the small matter of the money, I had none, and I…I needed…oh shit, I was a total mess," he admitted. "I needed to, uh, sober up."

"Why didn't you just borrow money from someone? Me? Your Dad?" Joey asked, somewhat incredulous. "God knows I've borrowed enough from you over the years."

Chandler chuckled sadly, then grinned a little at Joey.

"Bings don't borrow money," he said with a shrug. "They sleep with the pool boy and abandon their pre-pubescent sons to disappear with Mr. Garabaldi, but they don't borrow money."

Joey just shook his head.

"Anyway, I…I got my act together after that phone call and I…I'd convinced myself I'd get her back," he said, with a nod. "So, I went to make, ya know, a couple of …deposits and get the quick money I needed to get back here….I thought it'd be easy…"

Joey held his breath.

"And?"

Chandler looked away from him for a moment before turning his sad eyes back to his friend. There was bitterness mixed with resignation in his voice as he replied.

"They ran tests," he said, looking past Joey, then looking down. When he looked up again the pain in Chandler's eyes tore straight through Joey's heart.

"I'm shooting blanks, Joe," he said quietly. "They wouldn't, they couldn't even…I couldn't even…let's just say, they sent me on my way."

Joey just stared at him, not knowing what to say.

"Eventually, I went to a doctor and he confirmed it," he said. "They call it 'low motility' but it's…it's more than that. If…if that was it in-vitro would work, ya know? But, they…they said less than five-percent of my….output is viable."

Joey put his hand on Chandler's shoulder, tears in his eyes as Chandler cleared his throat, blinking several times. Finally, he shook his head as his shoulders slumped.

"I'm…I'm never going to be a father, Joe," he said quietly, sadly. He looked past Joey's shoulder again, the tears on his cheeks reflecting brightly in the small glow of the lights surrounding them. "And…and as much as that really sucks, the worst part is I'm never…I'm never going to be able to make anyone a mother."

He turned and looked directly at Joey.

" _I_ can't do it," he said, lowering his eyes a touch. "I can't be who she needs me to be. I can't be her future. Not then, not now."

"Oh but, Chandler…" Joe started, anxiously moving around on the stool, ready to launch into all the reasons his friend was wrong.

"Joe, put yourself in my place," Chandler said, wiping his cheeks and glaring at him as his emotions and frustration got the best of him. "What was I supposed to do? Come back and…and say 'hey, Mon. I know I'm the immature asshole who disappeared, but I need you back and I want you to forgive me. Oh, but by the way, the one dream you have, that _one thing_ you want more than anything in the world. Yeah, I can't do that…"

He waved one hand dismissively at his friend as his voice caught. Joey closed his eyes and dropped his head.

"When I…when that…sunk in," Chandler continued softly after a moment, looking back at his beer bottle. "I decided I would…well, I could either drink myself to death or move on. So, I left for California. I went as far away as I could. It's best for, for both of us if…what's past stays in the past."

Joey briefly squeezed his eyes closed, shaking his lowered head, trying to take in everything he'd just heard.

"So that's how you've rationalized it?" Joey said finally, understanding dawning on him as he slowly lifted his face to his friend's. "This is what you've told yourself all this time?"

Chandler nodded, raising his eyebrows just a touch at Joey's use to the word "rationalized."

Joey stared at him in disbelief, then sighed.

"Look," Joey finally said softly. "I'm sorry, man, I'm so sorry, but…you know, she loves you so much…"

"No, Joey," he said quickly, cutting him off, rolling his bottle between his hands. "Even if we did…try, she'd end up resenting…she'd regret it. I know she wants to have a baby. I know that hasn't changed. I know she wants to be a mother more than just about anything else and, God, she should. She was made for it, and I can't…I can't do that. I can't give that to her."

"Chandler…"

His friend just shook his head.

"I can't go through it again," he whispered. "I can't put myself back in that…situation, put my heart back out there only to end up in the same place…ending it with her because…ending it with…her…again…"

Joey watched as Chandler picked up his bottle and downed the rest of his beer in one chug. He stood up and dug out his wallet, throwing enough money down to cover his own drinks, then turned to Joey.

"It almost killed me the first time," he said, his voice thick. He stuffed his wallet back into the back of his jeans with one hand and fiercely wiped at the tears in his eyes with the other. "If it…happened again…it would kill me, Joe. I won't…I won't take the risk. I won't let _her_ take the risk. I'm not blind, Joey, I can see it. Dammit, I can feel it. I just…I can't live through it again…I wouldn't _live_ through it again."

"Where are you going?" Joey demanded, standing and fumbling with his wallet to pay his tab as Chandler began to quickly walk out of the bar.

"I gotta go," Chandler said over his shoulder as tears started to fall down his face. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Chandler!" Joey said, as he finally paid and ran out of the bar after him. But when he got outside, Chandler was nowhere to be found.

 ** _NOTE: It's really cold out, and this one was ready, so I thought "why not"..._**


	13. Chapter 13

Chandler tapped his knuckle on the glass front door of Javu, then adjusted his overnight bag over his shoulder and took a deep breath. He pulled at the collar of the black button down shirt he'd matched with his black, light leather jacket and blue jeans that morning in anticipation of the long flight back to California.

He hoped he'd be able to sleep on the plane because he'd hardly slept the night before. He alternated between kicking himself for pouring his heart out to Joey and bouts of profound sadness as he replayed his last dance with Monica over and over in his hazy mind. Sometime between 3-4 a.m. he finally found a few moments of peace and dozed off, but he knew from now on those moments would be few and far between.

Chandler started to fidget as he waited, peering into the darkened foyer beyond the glass door. He was eager to see her, but also anxious. He knew their dance had affected her as much as it did him, and he wanted to make sure she was OK.

He blinked in surprise and stepped back as an Asia man in a sharp dress suit came to the door, smiling warmly at him.

"I'm so sorry, I thought I'd left the door unlocked," he said as he opened the door for Chandler. "I'm Cory, Monica's business partner."

"Hello Cory," he said, shaking the man's outstretched hand. "I'm Chandler."

"Yes, yes, Monica's been waiting for you," he said, gesturing toward the quiet, empty dining area. "She's, ah, taking care of a delivery issue in the back. She'll be out in a minute."

Chandler nodded and smiled to himself. He could only imagine Monica's displeasure with the poor sap that apparently got a delivery wrong. He dropped his bag on the hardwood floor and started looking around.

"Wow," he said, nodding his approval. "This place looks great. You could open tomorrow."

Cory chuckled.

"Not quite," he said, glancing around his dining room, "but Monica is very efficient, and, I must admit, farther ahead of schedule than I thought we'd be at this point. I've left a lot of it up to her. She's been a dream."

Chandler grinned wistfully at him as Monica poked her head around the corner from the kitchen. Her eyes landed on her ex-boyfriend, who had his back to her. She felt her heart flutter. He had his hands on his hips, his head titled back as he and Cory surveyed the fixtures overhead. She took a deep, quiet breath, soaking up the image of him in her restaurant, wanting to burn his presence there into her brain.

"Well, this has always been her dream," Chandler continued quietly, contemplatively. "I'm really glad you've given her this opportunity. No one deserves it more than she does."

Cory nodded his agreement.

"And, ya know," Chandler said with his lopsided grin on his face as he glanced at Cory, "her chef-ing's pretty good, too."

Monica dropped her head briefly, her face turning pink at the compliment and grinned as Cory agreed enthusiastically.

"Oh, yes, I was very pleased when Pete Becker made contact and she was interested," Cory replied. "I proposed to my wife at Alessandro's a few years ago. It was where we had our first date ."

"Ah…" Chandler said, dropping his head and nodding a little.

"Well, you've got the very best," Chandler said in the still, empty room. He raised his head again and glanced at Cory.

"Don't let her go," he added, softly.

Monica's head shot up as her eyes filled with tears, but she blinked them back as she cleared her throat and stepped into the room.

"There she is," Cory said with a smile as he walked over to her. Chandler took a deep breath as he smiled at her. She was all business today. A light-weight lavender sweater and black slacks, her hair resting on her shoulders. His racing heart slowed by a beat or two. She looked comfortable, completely in her element in her new restaurant.

Her expression was genuine as she smiled back at him then turned her attention to Cory.

"The chairs had the black leather backing, not the brown," she told him, thinly veiled aggravation in her voice. "Obviously, they were unacceptable because the order clearly stated 'brown."

Cory nodded.

"But," she sighed, "they won't have the correct chairs on the truck until the weekend, so delivery will be Monday at the earliest."

"Oh, that'll be fine," Cory said, patting Monica's arm. "I was just telling your friend here how ahead of schedule we are."

He gestured to Chandler and he gave her a little grin. She grinned back, her heart flipping over again, as she fleetingly wondered how long it would take her to fall out of love with the love of her life.

"You? Ahead of schedule?" he teased, a little gleam in his eyes. "I'm stunned. Really."

She felt herself relax at the playful look on his face and smirked back at him.

"So, Cory, my friend here is a big-shot real estate agent now," she said, stepping toward Chandler and crossing her arms. She nodded around the dining room. "Whatta think?"

He looked at the teasing challenge in her eyes and cleared his throat.

"You've certainly got the 'location, location, location' down," he said, eyes scanning the room. "The tunnel lights through the faux awning into the dining area add a nice touch. Natural light. Top-end, custom fixtures in brushed nickel. Dark, though, but it works…"

Monica's jaw dropped as he kept speaking, marveling at what he knew. The Chandler she knew three years ago wouldn't have had a clue what 'tunnel lighting' was, let alone be able to talk expertly about it. Cory caught her expression and smiled. Chandler lightly stomped his foot.

"Brazilian hardwood and sleek, classic rough-ins give it an edgy, earthy but contemporary feel. So, yeah," he said, nodding at the restaurant owners, smiling a little sheepishly at the look on Monica's face, "you're all set for a successful opening. Ya know, as long as the food is good."

He winked at her and she playfully slapped him on the forearm. Cory looked curiously back and forth between the two, then down at his watch.

"It's almost 10, I've got to run," he said, reaching out to shake Chandler's hand. "Very nice to meet you."

Chandler replied the same.

"Monica, just keep me in loop," Cory said. "We'll talk tomorrow."

Monica nodded and Cory waved as he walked out the door. Chandler stuffed his hands in his jean pockets and turned to Monica. She wrapped her arms a little tighter around herself and grinned softly as she caught his gaze. He grinned gently back. With no one to buffer them, the tension started to rise and an uncomfortable silence fell between them.

"This place is gonna do great, Mon," he said softly, after a moment. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," she whispered, her blue eyes completely sucked in by his. It was as if she wanted to memorize every laugh line that framed them, every shade they transformed into at different angles in the morning sunlight.

Every thought seemed to escape his mind as she studied his face. When Felicia looked at him like this it made him very uncomfortable. He'd fidget and look away. When Monica looked at him like this, his world stopped.

But, he reminded himself, the world had to keep spinning. So he blinked and looked away.

"Kitchen?" he managed to ask in a somewhat squeaky voice, raising his eyebrows.

"What?" she asked, briefly startled that her trance was broken. Then she giggled nervously. "Kitchen? Oh, of course, kitchen!"

She turned, her face burning a little as she led him the short distance to the stainless steel commercial kitchen which had become her pride and joy.

"Geez, Mon," he said, giving the sparkling room the once-over. "This is incredible."

She smiled widely at him and nodded.

"Not bad, huh?"

He shook his head, a look of awe coming over his face as he looked around.

"I'm so proud of you," he said, almost more to himself than to her. When he realized he said it out loud his face turned pink. "I mean…I hope that didn't sound condescending or anything. I just…I am."

When he turned to her his heart slammed against his chest at the tears in her eyes, which made his own eyes fill with tears.

Monica raised a hand and swiped at the water forming in the corner of her eye. Right then it hit her more than ever how much she wished she was sharing this whole journey with him - not just showing it to him before he left to return to his new home, his new family.

"Thanks," she said, clearing her throat. "I'd love it if you would come back for the grand opening in June."

Chandler pursed his lips together, actually wanting nothing more than to do just that.

"I'll see what I can do," he said, with a sad, little grin. "Save me a brown-backed leather seat?"

She grinned as she swallowed the batch of tears in the back of her throat and searched his face.

"Always," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

He nodded once and swallowed hard, the tension suddenly back again, but this time it is was Monica who broke it. She glanced at the clock on the kitchen wall.

"We better get to the coffeehouse," she said, trying to make her voice sound much lighter than she felt. "Everyone will be waiting to say goodbye…"

She stopped then, trying to make a sudden wave of sadness pass over her quickly. When she looked up into his eyes she swore she saw a trace of the same sadness, or maybe it was nostalgia, lying within them. She took a deep breath.

"And you've got to get back to your girls," she said quietly with a little smile, using all the strength she could muster to make it sound as if her heart wasn't being crushed. "You're running out of time."

He stared at her, that same look remaining in his eyes, then he cleared his throat.

"Aw…they, they aren't 'my' girls," he said as a little grin crossed his face. "I'm just 'Chander.'"

She smiled as his grin deepened.

"Oh, Chandler, they adore you," she said, searching his eyes, "and you adore them."

He blushed a little at that.

"Yeah," he said, shrugging, grinning at the thought. "But, ya know, it's…it's not like they're actually mine, though. I mean I'm not…I'm not their _real_ Dad or anything…"

He shrugged again and looked away, not able to directly look her in the eye.

She just waved her hand dismissively, doing once more what she'd naturally always done - alleviate his insecurity.

"Kids are kids," she said, gamely trying to smile again, "They don't have to be yours for you to love them or for them to love you. Look at Susan with Ben. She loves him just as much as Ross or Carol. She's not biologically related to him but that doesn't matter. She's a terrific mom."

Monica cocked her head to the side and grinned as a stunned look came over his face.

"Blood doesn't bond you to children, Chandler. Love does," she continued, having absolutely no idea how her innocent, unsolicited words were affecting him, "and I…I know Hallie and Sadie have two good parents, but they are really lucky to have you as a father figure in their lives. Any kid would be."

She stopped then, her own emotions threatening to get the better of her. She smiled softly at him then turned and walked over to the kitchen countertop to get her purse, pushing the tears out of her eyes once more. She briefly shook her head. Here she was, telling him what a great parent she thought he'd be, having always thought it would be _her_ children, _their_ children, who would benefit from the fantastic father he was already becoming.

His heart thundering, Chandler just stared after her, trying to wrap his mind around the words she'd just said. He looked down, his jaw slightly dropped, then looked back to her, utter confusion on his face.

"Did…did you, ah, talk to Joey?" he asked, his voice shaking a touch.

She turned back to him and looked at him quizzically.

"Today?" she asked, furrowing her brow at the look on his face. "No, but I'm sure he'll be at the coffee house. Why?"

He blinked at her then widened his eyes, still in a moderate state of shock.

"Oh," he said softly, his mind suddenly, completely in a fog.

"Chandler?" she asked, walking over to him. "Are you OK?"

He looked down into her concerned but confused face and swallowed hard.

"Yeah," he nodded, trying to blink the fog away. ""Yeah…just…yeah. I'm fine."

She cast a doubtful look at him, so he gave her a little grin then blindly looked up at the time.

"Yeah," he said. "Like you said…running out of time."

He nodded toward the front door.

"OK," she said, smiling a little at him. She shut off the restaurant lights as he picked up his bag. He followed her out the front door and waited as she made sure it was securely locked behind them. His mind was reeling as he tried to process both his thoughts and his heart. She looked at him again as she hailed a cab.

"You sure you're OK?" she asked one more time, one hand in the air, the other resting on the sleeve of his jacket.

"Yeah," he nodded, backing away from her slightly as her hand dropped. "Yeah, let's…let's go."

###

All four of them were waiting when they arrived at Central Perk, and Chandler was no more settled upon entering the coffeehouse than he was when they left Javu 20 minutes earlier.

It was Monica who filled the silence on the cab ride over, and what she told him came as a complete surprise and literally made his heart hurt. He sat next to her, both stunned and sad, as she spoke of giving up her apartment once the restaurant opened and moving alone into Manhattan. She said it was a recent decision, but one she'd been thinking about for a while, calling it a "needed change of scenery.

"It's time for a fresh start," she'd said quietly.

Chandler nodded in understanding as she went on, but it felt…wrong. It felt completely wrong, until it dawned on him that Apartment 20 probably hadn't really felt like home to her in a long time. And that, ultimately, was his fault.

By the time he'd paid the cab driver and they walked into the coffeehouse, he felt like he was on the verge of a panic attack. He tried to chalk it up to saying goodbye to everyone, to saying goodbye to Monica, but that wasn't it. It was more than that and, with his mind and heart currently in complete turmoil, he couldn't organize his thoughts enough to analyze it.

So he just went through the motions. He hugged Ross and Rachel and Phoebe. Vowing to keep in touch, mentioning that he was going to try to come back for the opening of the restaurant, and apologizing, again, for _not_ saying goodbye the last time he left.

When it was Joey's turn, he held on a little tighter and, because he had to know, he whispered.

"Did you…say anything to…anyone?" he pulled back, looking into Joey's eyes with apprehension.

But Joey just shook his head.

"Did you?" Joey asked with a serious look on his face.

Chandler just frowned at him.

"Have a safe flight, dude," Joey sighed, slapping his old roommate on the shoulder.

Chandler nodded then looked at the faces of the friends around him, Phoebe nodded at him and smiled, but Ross and Rachel's pensive gazes were firmly planted on Monica.

He turned his attention to her.

"Well," she said, tears catching in her throat. This was the exact moment she'd been dreading. The moment when she'd have to tell him goodbye, really let him go and completely set him free.

 _A few more minutes_ , she told herself. _Hold on just a few more minutes_.

"Well," he repeated, a mild look of confusion still on his face as he reached out for her.

She fell into his arms, burying her head in his chest as he held her close, fighting hard not to say "I love you," though her heart was crying out for her to just say it.

Chandler squeezed his eyes tight and held her, trying to fight off the profoundly uneasy feeling in his soul. It was time for him to go. He had to go back to San Francisco - to Felicia and the girls. He needed to just be her friend and cheer her on as she found her own happiness again.

That was the right thing to do. That was the only thing to do.

Wasn't it?

Finally he cleared his throat and pulled back from her, as both of them smiled behind their tears.

"I'll do my best to come back for the festivities," he said as lightly as he could.

Monica smiled and wiped her eyes, nodding.

"That'd be great," she said softly, pulling herself back together. "It was great to…see you again. I'm…I'm so glad…"

Suddenly she stopped and dropped her head, unable to say any more. Chandler nodded, a hard frown hiding his tears, his stomach twisting into a knot.

He sniffed back his tears, then reached a hand out, pulling her to him briefly one more time and quickly placing a kiss in her hair.

"Me, too," he whispered, understanding what she couldn't say. They were glad they were friends again. They were glad this goodbye ended with a dance and not a fight. They were glad they would see each other again.

But as she slowly lifted her face to his, the one thing that kept them from being completely happy, completely settled, rested in both their eyes - blue mirroring blue.

"Goodbye, Mon," he whispered, his heart pounding so hard it was the only thing he could hear.

"Goodbye, Chandler," she whispered back, feeling like a house of cards that was about to fall over.

He grinned softly then looked up, locking eyes with a crying Rachel. He cleared his throat a couple times and stepped back. He said goodbye to the group one more time, not trusting himself to look at Monica again, and then hurried out the door.

Immediately Ross and Rachel placed themselves on either side of Monica, Phoebe and Joey close by.

Monica straightened her shoulders and wiped her cheeks as she saw him get into a cab and watched it drive away through the front window.

"It's over," she whispered, closing her eyes.

###

Chandler looked blankly out the window as the cab driver passed by the familiar landmarks of the Village, feeling like he was about to throw up. He put a hand to his chest, honestly wondering if he was having a heart attack as his breath started coming in rapid bursts.

"You OK, buddy?" the cabbie asked through the rearview mirror.

Chandler didn't respond. He laced his hands behind his neck as he dropped his head between his knees, tears stinging his eyes. And he started to shake…

 _"It would have been nice to know you are still in love with her before she set foot in my house…_

 _Do you still love her, Chandler? Do you…"_

 _"She's still so damn in love with you, Chandler…_

… _Can't you see it? Can't you see it written all over her face?!"_

 _"Blood doesn't bond you to children, Chandler. Love does…_

… _.they are really lucky to have you as a father figure in their lives. Any kid would be…"_

Chandler gasped for air as his head shot up and his back hit against the back seat of the cab with a thud.

"Dammit!" he said fiercely through clenched teeth, his head pounding and his heart slamming against his chest. "Goddammit!"

Tears were streaming down his face as he fumbled in his pocket for his Blackberry. He took several deep breaths, his trembling fingers slowly dialing the number.

He pushed "send" and held his breath.

"Hello?" he said shakily when she answered. He put a palm on his forehead and squeezed even more tears out of his eyes.

"It's me."

 _ **NOTE: So, um, all of you kinda blew me away with your reactions to the last chapter. Wow. Thank you, sincerely, from the bottom of my heart…**_

 _ **To make this big of a break-up feel authentic I knew there had to be a significant, legit reason for Chandler to disappear (seemingly permanently), and a kiss with Richard alone wouldn't have done it. And for me there's no way on Earth that Monica, even in an AU, would have slept with Richard, especially at that crucial S6 moment. Just...no.**_

 _ **Now, I have to give a very special "shout-out" to the one Guest who noted "Gift of the Magi" in a review of the last chapter. My jaw literally dropped when I read that because I had planned to add the following in my final A/N at the end of this story. I will still make a small reference to "Gift" when it's all over, but, man, did you**_ **ever** _**nail where my head and heart have been while I've been writing this!**_

 _ **To whit…**_

 _ **"This story took shape quickly in my head. After it did I kept trying to remember what it reminded me of and about half-way through it hit me - O. Henry's short story "Gift of the Magi." I thought that was pretty fitting since the writing of this fic spanned the Christmas season.**_

 _ **So I'll end with a quote from that classic story…"**_

… _ **and I will, when the time comes. We've got a good number of updates to go, though , before we get there. :)**_

 _ **Thank you, all, for your reviews and your feedback. It's been so incredible, you have no idea. And, good news, the next chapter is thisclose to completion. And it's a pretty important one… ;)**_

 _ **Have a great weekend - stay warm if you live in the cold!**_


	14. Chapter 14

_I Miss You_

As the cab came to a stop at the curb, Chandler pulled cash out of his wallet and paid the driver. He took a deep breath, briefly looking up through the dirty glass of the taxi at the big window in front of him.

He slammed the cab door shut and hiked his bag up over his jacket sleeve as the driver pulled away. His heart was racing as he stared straight ahead, not at all sure how the conversation that awaited him on the other side of the door would go down. All he knew was that it had to happen.

###

"Here ya are, Monica," Gunther said gently as he handed her a cup of tea from the round tray in his hand.

"Thank you," she whispered, taking a sip then handing the mug off to Rachel sitting next to her. Rachel placed it on the coffee table as Monica closed her eyes and rested her head against the back of the orange sofa once again.

She'd started shaking when Chandler left and Ross had guided her to the couch as her friends all gathered around her. For several minutes they sat in silence, giving each other worried looks as Rachel gently stroked her arm.

Finally Gunther hesitantly came over and asked if anyone needed anything. It was as if the whole coffeehouse felt the pall that had fallen over the group. It almost felt like a wake instead of a typical Thursday, and everyone was hesitant to interrupt them in their mourning.

Ross, sitting on the arm of the sofa, ran a hand over his sister's forehead and smoothed back her hair. Phoebe was leaning forward in the chair next to the table by the sofa, and Joey was crouching at her feet.

"This was supposed to make it better," Monica finally whispered, pinching the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger.

"What was?" Joey asked softly, a confused expression on his face.

"This," she said, opening her watery eyes and sitting up a little straighter. "Us. Being on…on good terms again. S…seeing him happy. It was supposed to make it better. Make it…make it go away."

"Make what go away?" Joey asked again. The other three shot him an exasperated look behind their anxious faces as Monica sucked in her breath.

"Missing him, Joey," she whispered, her voice trembling as she raised her sad and somewhat aggravated eyes briefly to his. "Missing him so much I can't breathe."

Joey nodded as he closed his eyes and dropped his head. He wanted badly to tell Monica what Chandler's motivation was for being away from her and staying away from her, but he didn't know if he should, or even how he would bring that topic up to her. He sensed him continuing to talk and ask questions wasn't helping the current situation either, so he didn't say anymore.

Phoebe caught Rachel's eye and shook her head sadly, knowing full well that Monica's plan for her and Chandler to be "just friends" again was doomed from the beginning. She cleared her throat and tried to say something soothing anyway.

"It's been an emotional few days," Phoebe sighed, her own eyes filling with tears, taking Monica's hand in hers. "It will get easier…"

Monica jerked her hand away from Phoebe, and for the first time since Chandler walked out of Central Perk she let her eyes become blurry with tears.

"Please _do_ _not_ say that!" Monica said fiercely as she took a sharp, harsh breath. "I don't need to hear _that_ again."

"Monica…" Rachel started, wrapping her arms around her, all of them instantly steeling themselves for her breakdown. Monica had always been the strong one, the one who pulled everyone through everything and she still was, except when it came to Chandler.

She gulped for air a couple times, tears now racing down her cheeks as she crossed her arms over her stomach and hunched over.

"Oh, God," she whimpered, feeling the full force of holding in her devastation for so long. She knew she'd made the right decision to let him go back to San Francisco without messing with his feelings. Doing what she felt - no, what she _knew_ \- was right left her with a clear conscience, but the pain was as real as though someone had stabbed her straight through the heart.

And she knew Phoebe was correct. The emotions she felt in that moment would ebb eventually, but the heartache of regret, of never knowing what might have been she would harbor in her soul until the day she died.

Monica fell against Rachel and her friend cradled her head to her breast. Rachel looked forlornly up at Ross, unchecked tears running down her cheeks. Ross looked back at her with watery eyes and a red face, then quickly threw his head back and blinked his eyes as he looked blankly at the ceiling overhead.

He looked back down at his sister and shook his head again, a grimace on his face. He placed his hand on her shoulder with a deep sigh. Then he looked up across the coffeehouse and froze.

"Oh my God," Ross whispered, as he glanced out the window.

"What?" Rachel asked, looking in the same direction. Then she gasped.

Monica turned around on the couch, mascara running down her cheeks, her eyes rimmed red, breathing deeply to try to calm herself down.

"Chandler," Joey said quietly, relief running through his body.

One hand on the glass, the other in his jacket pocket, he'd watched them. He'd watched them huddle around her as she sat on the orange sofa. He'd watched her rock forward, her head dropping, her heart breaking all over again. Phoebe and Rachel were crying, Joey looked like he might. Ross's face was red. The Central Perk regulars were all focused on the scene playing out on the couch. Even Gunther was hovering worriedly nearby.

When Ross first spotted him, his initial instinct was to run, but he didn't move. Then Monica turned around to the window and a raw, overwhelming emotion he hadn't let himself feel in years completely overtook him. Seeing the heartbreak on her face, seeing the unconscionable pain in her eyes had instantly ripped his heart right out of his chest.

Chandler took two steps to the right and opened the door, stepping inside the coffeehouse. His eyes never left Monica as he watched her try to calm herself down, try to be strong, try to put up a good front. She quickly wiped her eyes, then smoothed her shaking hands over her sweater, pulling it down nervously at the bottom hem as she stood and walked around to the other side of the sofa. She even tried to put a small smile on her face.

"What…what are you doing back here?" she asked, her artificially bright voice quivering just a touch as Chandler walked closer. "You're going to miss your flight. You'll be late…"

The gang and Gunther stepped away from her as Chandler threw his overnight bag behind the orange couch, took one step down and stood right in front of her.

"Did you forget something?" she whispered, looking through her own tears at the tears in his eyes. He hadn't looked at her like that in three years, with that intensity that made her knees go weak, made her forget every thought, made her feel every thing.

When he laid his lopsided grin on her she started to sway, her head spinning and her legs faltering. He reached out quickly and caught her, pulling her to him.

"Yeah," he whispered, searching her face, now finding traces of long-buried hope behind her bright blue eyes.

The moment his lips touched hers she clutched at his shoulders, her grip so strong her knuckles turned white. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pushing them up her back, locking her tighter against him.

Rachel put a hand over her mouth and turned to bury her head against Ross's leg. A teary-eyed Joey stood up and came around to put his hands on Phoebe's shoulders as she fell back in the chair against him. Gunther grinned and started the round of applause that broke out around the coffeehouse.

The couple at the center of all the attention didn't hear it. Her heart was exploding as his soft lips crashed hard on hers over and over. He drank in the taste of her again, in disbelief that he'd lived without it for so, so long.

When they broke for air, Chandler briefly glanced around at all the people watching them then guided her to the corner of the room, by the supply closet, as far away from prying eyes as they could get.

Her back hit the wall. Monica's hands had a death-grip on his jacket, keeping him close to her, the love-struck expression on her face a mix of shock and awe. He smoothed down her hair with his palms, the endless love he saw in her eyes reminding him, again, of all he'd tried so hard and so unsuccessfully to forget.

"I forgot how damn incredible you are," he whispered. Smiling through her watery eyes she reached up and pulled his face to her, gently kissing his lips, reveling in the feel of his strong jaw under her fingertips.

"I forgot how right the world is when I'm with you," he continued as she kissed his cheek, burying her hands in his hair. "What it's like to hold you, to kiss you…"

Her tear-laced lips caught his again for a brief, searing moment.

"I forgot that we…we can fight through anything as long as we fight through it together," he said finally, as he kissed away the tears on her cheek. Breathing hard, sniffing back her tears, she pulled his forehead to hers, her hands trembling.

"I tried to forget," he started in a whisper, taking deep breaths now, tears streaming down his face as his hands cupped her shoulders, "but I _never_ _forgot_ how…much…I love you, Monica."

Sobbing now, she locked her fingers behind his neck, then closed her eyes and took a deep breath, soaking in his presence all around her.

"I _never_ stopped loving you, Chandler," she whispered fiercely, shaking her head back and forth against his. "I never stopped. Never, never, ever, not for one second, ever. I love you, I love you so much…."

She pulled back, looking into the eyes she'd spent so many sleepless nights dreaming of getting lost in again, now once more looking adoringly into hers. Her nails gently scrapped the nape of his neck as her palms moved to his cheeks again. She was afraid to break contact now, after all this time, when he was finally back in her arms.

"But I thought…" she started shakily, her eyes begging him, her voice just above a whisper as it caught in her throat. "Are you saying…?"

He nodded.

"I don't know how…but I can't…I…" he whispered brokenly, swallowing hard, "but I…I'm still in love with you. I can't…fight it. Not anymore, I can't…"

She gasped and pulled his face to hers, her mouth only an inch from his.

"Oh God," she breathed, crying and choking out between short, hard kisses, "are you sure? You're sure, Chandler?!"

Seeing the desperation in her eyes when she asked the question made his heart race faster. He brushed his thumbs against her cheeks several times, wiping her tears away, before he could find his voice to speak again.

"I'm sure," he whispered, trying to smile a little, "but we have…there's so much we need to…talk about…before…"

She swallowed hard and nodded her head.

"Yes…yes," she said shakily, her palms planted firmly on either side of his head, then she quickly sucked in her breath. "What about your flight?"

He shook his head.

"Don't worry about that," he said quickly. She looked at him curiously for only a second before nodding again. Her eyes darted past his shoulder as their friends were slowly making their way over to them.

"Apartment?" she asked quietly, her mouth already itching for his.

He briefly closed his eyes and shook his head again.

"We'd never make it past the kitchen table," he whispered, his voice deep and husky as he looked deep into her eyes.

Her heart lurched and her body melted against him as she tried to stifle a moan, pulling his face to hers and kissing him again.

"Ah…guys?" Ross said, as he cleared his throat. They broke their kiss and turned to their friends, the looks on their reddened faces having turned from emotional relief to bemused embarrassment.

Chandler turned back to Monica, both of them wearing a shy grin.

"Where should we go?" he asked quietly.

Monica thought for just a moment then grabbed his hand in hers.

"I've got it," she said, then she turned to her friends wearing a smile none of them had seen since Chandler left.

"We're gonna go talk," she said, not able to keep the joy out of her voice, squeezing his hand so hard it was almost painful.

Chandler smiled, too, but the smile on his face was a little more reserved as his heart beat wildly against his chest. He caught Joey's eye. Joey nodded and Chandler nodded back to him and took a deep breath.

"We'll, ah, be at the apartment?" Rachel asked, wondering if that was where they were headed, but Monica just said "ok" and pulled Chandler toward the coffeehouse exit. Chandler picked up his bag behind the couch in mid-stride and followed her out the door.

###

Once they reached the top of the building, Chandler placed the bag between the door and the frame so they wouldn't get locked up on the roof.

She was breathing heavily as he turned to her, his heart pounding hard. She looked into his eyes and smiled slowly. He tried to take deep breaths, attempting to figure out exactly what to say and how to say it.

He knew the rest of his life teetered on the one reality that loomed before him. If she couldn't accept it, if she couldn't see a future without what he couldn't offer her, it really was over.

"Mon…" he said, taking a step toward her. She ran to him, the force of her body throwing him back against the side wall of the little structure that held the door to the inside. Her lips attacked his as she clung to him with all her might, every ounce of her flush against him. Chandler instantly wrapped his arms around her, holding her body as close to him as tightly as he could, keeping her in place, his mouth devouring hers.

Their kisses were bruising, deep, fevered, desperate - crashing together like the two lost souls they were, finally coming home to each other once again. They were sweating, gasping for air, hands roving around each other, but never letting go. Both loud gasps and soft moans escaped each of them when they could, the intervals of separation were brief as they both were reluctant to even come up for air.

Finally Chandler pulled back, his head spinning and his body reacting in ways he knew could only lead to a moment they weren't ready for yet.

"Monica," he whispered breathlessly.

She just smiled against his lips in response and he couldn't help but kiss her again, this time slowly, deliberately, tasting each curve and corner of her. Monica responded in kind, softly exploring his mouth inside and out, reacquainting herself with the only man whose kiss had ever made her feel like she was floating on moonlight.

Soon, though, her lips became more demanding and despite himself he deepened their kiss as they both moaned in unison, hanging onto each other for dear life. Just before his body went past the breaking point, though, Chandler pulled their lips apart.

"Mon…stop," he whispered, gently pushing her away just a touch, but never letting go of her hips. He took a deep, ragged breath. "We gotta…stop…"

Monica felt completely dizzy, her eyes couldn't even focus when she finally pulled back just enough to try to look into his. She was dazed, drunk, euphoric to be here with him, with _her_ Chandler, on the roof top kissing her into ecstasy.

"We have to talk," he breathed, trying to loosen her hold on him. She loosened her locked arms around his neck and nodded, trying to catch her breath. She stepped back, her lashes lowered, then suddenly both her hands were on his cheeks again and her eyes were blazing into his.

"I love you," she said fiercely, almost desperately. "I've _always_ only loved _you_."

The intense look on her face was so blinding Chandler nearly gave in, ready to take her right there on the roof. Instead he grabbed her to him, pulling her hard against his chest and closed his eyes. He could feel her shaking and knew he was too, years of pent up want, need, worry and love spilling out from every part of each of them.

"I know you do," he whispered, tears stinging his eyes. He blinked rapidly, never having felt such a conflicting yet clarifying range of emotions all at once in his entire life.

Impossibly Monica tightened her grip on him, fear enveloping her as a million questions rapidly shot through her mind. Did he really believe her? Could he get past the hurt she'd caused him all those years ago? What about Felicia? Did he still love her, too? Did he love her more?

She squeezed her eyes closed and took a few more deep breaths, feeling his chest rise and fall as he did the same. Eventually their bodies began to relax and their emotions began to settle enough that they both felt at least they could speak again.

Reluctantly she lifted her head from his chest and he looked down into her eyes, both getting lost again. Chandler blinked and raised one hand, slowly running the back of his fingers down her cheek as she searched his face. His other hand wrapped one of hers against his chest and he took another deep breath, a pained look coming over his face.

"I love you, too, Monica," he said, looking directly into her eyes. "I fought it. I hid from it. I tried to make it go away, but it never did. It never, ever will. An…and no matter what I want…I _need_ you to believe that."

Monica swallowed hard at the sincere, yet heartbreaking look on his face, her heart hammering.

"I do," she said softly, her lips quivering, her mind in a near panic now, in overdrive trying to prepare her heart for whatever else he was going to say. She held her breath.

He lifted their linked hands together and brought them to his lips, closing his eyes as he kissed the back of her hand, tears spilling down his cheeks.

"Oh…" she said shakily, her own expression contorted in comfort and concern, taking in the emotion in his. She searched his tear-streaked face with tears in her eyes, placing her other hand against the side of his neck.

He sighed deeply and opened his eyes, the love in them shooting straight into her soul.

"I hope it's enough," he whispered as she furrowed her brow slightly in confusion.

"I hope love is enough."

###

 _ **NOTE: I wrote much of this chapter immediately after I first heard "I Miss You." So, a while ago. And I may, or may not, have had it on a continuous loop as I finished this update. ;) I think it is such a hauntingly passionate song, and since much of the first part of this chapter kinda played out in slow motion in my head, it fit perfectly, for me anyway.**_

 _ **Now, I think I've spoiled you - three updates in relatively rapid succession. :-P**_

 _ **It just so happened that most of the recent updates I had partially written already and they were easy to finish. The rest I haven't physically written yet, so I'm not sure when the next update is going to come. But it will come - and it won't take forever, but it may take a while. I've got real-world writing deadlines breathing down my neck atm.**_

 _ **FYI…I have about 5 more chapters planned, give or take, before this ride through my Mondler version of Adele's**_ **25** _**comes to an end.**_

 _ **Thank you, again, for your reviews, PMs, feedback of every kind. Many of you have thanked me for this story - my goodness! You're welcome, but this is fun for me! Some women scrapbook, some join book clubs, I write fanfiction. Plain and simple - and I thank YOU, so much, for reading and responding to it. :)**_

 _ **Hopefully this chapter will tide you over for a little while. I'll be back as soon as I can be…**_


	15. Chapter 15

"I hope love is enough."

Monica ran her hand from his neck to his chest and shook her head in disbelief. Her voice was raspy when she spoke.

"Your love was always enough," she said, her eyes searching his, her heart breaking at the apprehension on his face.

"All the lost time, all the heartache, all of it…" she whispered, bowing her head and leaning her forehead against his chest. "It's all my fault."

She took a deep breath, trying to swallow the lump in her throat. Chandler squeezed his eyes closed and breathed in sharply.

"No," he said, lifting her chin with his fingertips and looking determinedly into her eyes. "No, it is _not_ all your fault…"

"Of course it is, Chandler," she said, her voice shaking. "If I…if I'd never gone to Richard's that night you never would have left. You never would have…have gone to California and…and started a new life...met s-someone…new…"

"Monica. Stop," he said firmly, a gigantic surge of guilt making his chest constrict as large tears started to roll out of her eyes. He squeezed her hand in both of his before he let go, stepping back, wiping the tears from his cheeks.

"But…" she said, reaching after him as he started to turn away. She stopped when he walked a couple paces from her, hands on his hips, head dropped and his eyes closed. She wiped her tears then held her breath as he finally turned to her.

"I lost my mind," he said slowly, softly, not able to look directly at her. "That…night I went to his apartment and saw you two…I _completely_ lost it."

She nodded, wrapping her arms tightly around herself as she watched and waited for him to continue.

He closed his eyes.

"All I could see was…I failed. I thought 'here I go again,'" he sighed. "I just kept thinking how I…I wasn't enough for…anyone. Kathy or, God, even Janice and…dammit, I…I didn't even know what being in love _was_ when I was with them…"

He stopped and shook his head, then finally looked over at her. She was gnawing on her lower lip, guilt spread across her face. He turned his gaze deliberately out over the city, trying to stay rooted in place and not walk to her and pull her to him. He so wanted to comfort her, to take away her hurt, but he didn't know if what pain relief he could provide would be permanent or temporary.

Monica cocked her head to the side when he looked away, studying his profile as he hesitated. There was something he wasn't telling her, something he didn't _want_ to tell her. And she didn't care how much time had gone by, she knew him. She knew when she wasn't getting the whole story from him, and her heart began to sink as the darkest fear she'd tried the keep buried came roaring to the top of her mind. Monica took a deep breath before she said what she was sure he didn't want to.

"You're in love with her, too, aren't you?" she finally said, almost in a whisper, the fear and pain unmistakable in her voice. "Felicia? You love her, too."

Chandler, his lips partially open, clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth and let out a deep breath, tears stinging his eyes as he continued to look anywhere but at her. Monica's heart seized in her chest as he nodded once, bringing a fresh batch of tears to her eyes.

"I do…" he started. "I mean, yes, I…care about her and…and the girls…very much…I…"

Monica swallowed hard and nodded, sniffing. Of course he did. Hadn't she seen it with her own eyes? He fit into his new family like a glove. And this…this is exactly what she'd wanted to avoid - tearing his heart apart, leaving what was left of her heart in tattered pieces.

At that moment he looked back and locked eyes with her. Monica shivered from head to toe. She felt like a giant ocean wave was crashing into her, trying to knock her down, trying to take the euphoria of the last twenty minutes and pull it back out to the sea. Away from her, like it had never happened. He looked so sad, so guilty and she knew the expression was mirrored on her face.

"I understand," she whispered, with a little nod, her watery eyes never leaving his. To her surprise, he shook his head.

"No," he said, finally turning his body towards her, "you don't, but…she…"

He dropped his head as tears filled his eyes. Monica slowly walked over to him, water still clinging to her lashes. Gently she took both his hands in hers and looked at the shadows clouding his features.

"I…called her," he started, brokenly, "from the cab."

He took a deep breath, squeezing both of Monica's hands in his, clinging to whatever stability she could provide him.

"I said…I told her we…needed to talk, but she…" he said in a raspy voice. Monica swallowed hard, trying to hang onto her patience as much as his every word. "Agh…" he almost growled, shaking his head violently from side to side, trying to get the heartbreak he heard in Felicia's voice out of his head. "Sh-she told me the person I needed to be talking to…was…you, and…she's right."

Chandler sighed deeply as Monica took a step closer to him, vowing to do whatever it took to earn his trust again. Whatever it took not to lose his love. Ever again.

"I promise…whatever you say, or…or do, whatever you…need me to say, want me to say, want me to _do_ to prove I love you…whatever, Chandler, I'll do it," she said, an earnest panic in her voice as her eyes searched his.

"Oh, Monica," he breathed, his lip quivering as he took his hands from hers and cradled her face between his palms. He grinned at her gently, his eyes soft. "You have nothing, _nothing_ to prove to me…"

"I hurt you," she whispered, as her breath hitched, "and you never came back…you never came back…"

Chandler squeezed his eyes closed tightly, trying to take back control of his suddenly rapid breathing.

"That's…that's what we…need…I need to talk about," he said, finally peeking into her confused eyes. "Why I never came back. It wasn't because of Richard. You and…Richard."

"What?" she said, pulling away from him, completely taken aback.

"That's…yeah, it's why I left, but it's not why I stayed away," he said shakily, putting a hand to his forehead.

"I…I don't understand," she asked, confused and fearful at the same time. "What are you talking about? Why…what else…why?"

He ran his hand through his hair, taking a step back from her.

"I…OK," he said, taking a deep breath, his hands beginning to tremble as he shoved them into the pockets of his jeans. "It's a long story but, but when I was in Nevada I…I went to…I saw a…a doctor."

Monica watched him as he winced, feeling like her heart had stopped. Blood drained from her face as she looked him up and down, her eyes wide. He looked perfect, healthy. She reached for his arm.

"Oh my God," she said her voice trembling, her eyes desperately questioning him as she grabbed onto the sleeve of his jacket, shaking his arm. "Are you…sick? Chandler?!"

"No!" he said quickly, trying to calm her rising alarm, putting his hand over hers. "I'm not sick. I'm fine, honestly. I am, but I learned something…there is something…I…I have t-to tell you."

She put both hands on his arm. Chandler looked beyond her, out over her head and cleared his throat. Then he looked back into her face, trying to etch each little feature in his mind. She'd grown more beautiful with time, he thought fleetingly as he studied her with a look of unwavering, unending adoration.

"I have only been in love _once_ ," he whispered, blinking back tears. His emotions were so raw, the look on his face so honest and heartbreaking that Monica felt her insides melt. She held onto him tighter.

"You are the only woman whose ever…gotten me, whose ever had me, heart and soul, Mon," he said softly, "the _only_ one."

She sucked in a ragged breath, then shook her head, her heart thundering in her chest.

"Then make me understand all this because I don't," she said, a touch of anger now in her voice. "If you've always…felt this way after…after everything then why? Why didn't you come home or at least call me?! I was frantic for you!"

He nodded and dropped his head. She shook his arm again, begging for him to explain.

"I stayed away f-from you," he started softly, raising his head, determined to look her in the eye, "because I can't…give you the future you want, Monica. The future you deserve to have…"

"But, I just…I want you," she said evenly, trying to make sense of why he was saying this. "You love me. I love you. What else is there?"

"You want to have children, Monica," he said quickly, then held his breath.

"Of course, yes, of course I do, someday," she shook her head, her brows furrowed in confusion. Then she smiled softly. "With you. Only with you, Chandler. Someday. Is that what you're worried about? Oh, you'll be such a great father…"

Suddenly Monica stopped as the pain on his face spilled over into tears on his cheeks. Her eyes fell, and she stared blankly at his chest, then put a palm briefly over her mouth. Her eyes were bright as she looked back up at him.

"You said you saw a doctor…" she whispered, brokenly. He nodded.

"I can't," he said, shaking his head from side to side, moving his hands to her shoulders. "I can't f-father…"

He cleared his throat as he watched her face slowly change as it started to sink in what he was trying to tell her.

"I…I found out…I am…not able t-to father a child," he said, in as calm a voice as he could. "I can't make you a…a mother, Mon, and if…if we get back together…I…I can't give you a baby."

Tears started to involuntarily fall out of her eyes as she just stared at him, a hundred conflicting emotions hitting her all at once. She was speechless, her jaw dropping as she put her palms to his damp cheeks, her eyes still fixed in confusion, trying to make her brain process what he'd said to her as rapidly as it possibly could.

The expression on Chandler's face was a perfect mixture of relief and defeat. He pursed his lips together, waiting for her to say something…anything. But in that very second she couldn't find the words for what she was thinking, her thoughts and feelings having become completely jumbled in her mind. The very last thing she'd expected him to tell her was what he just had.

Her hands pulled his face to her shoulder and he went willingly into her arms, her fingers lacing through his hair as his arms circled around her back, holding her close. Monica's blurry eyes darted back and forth as she looked to the sky, as if searching for the right response in the cloudless blue above them. She held him close and he could feel her heartbeat pounding fast throughout her whole body, and he could sense the trepidation in her embrace, anticipating the revelation he'd just made would change everything.

Finally Monica closed her eyes and he loosened his arms around her. When she stepped back she looked up at him, unable to read the expression on his suddenly stoic face. She ran her hands from his shoulders and down his arms.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, not looking directly at him.

Chandler's face turned red as he just nodded, trying to keep his emotions in check as she ran both her hands over her face then crossed them over her chest, hugging herself, her eyes finally meeting his and holding his gaze.

"You should have told me," she whispered, hoarsely, then added with more force as frustration got the better of her. "All these years I thought it was… _me_. You should have told me!"

"When?!" he asked, throwing his arms out and shrugging his shoulders, his own frustration over having asked himself that question a million times pouring out of him. "After the way I left? How was I supposed to come back and beg you to take me back after I found that out? After _I_ was the one who ran like a…like a fucking _teenager_ …"

"You should have _called_ _me_!" she nearly shouted at him, hot tears stinging her eyes, years of bottled up emotions taking over each of them as the breeze picked up on the roof. " _I_ was the one who woke up screaming your name in the middle of the night! _I_ was the one who had nightmare after nightmare that you were dead in some back alley somewhere!"

He blinked back in shock at her outburst, a ragged cry escaping his lips as he looked into the worried fury on her face. She moved closer to him, poking a pointed finger into his chest.

" _You_ lost _your_ mind, Chandler?!" she said through broken sobs, her whole body now trembling. "You have no _fucking_ idea what a _nightmare_ I went through!"

"Yes, yes!" he said, motioning towards himself with his hands, almost egging her on, wanting her to get it all out, wanting to absorb whatever hell she wanted to unleash on him.

"You wouldn't even _talk_ to me," she said hotly. "All this time…all this time I thought you were so angry with me that…that you couldn't even…that you hated me!"

"That's what…that's what I wanted you to…I wanted _you_ to hate _me_ ," he said emphatically. "I wanted you to…to find someone and be happy with him and, and…"

"And forget you?" she gasped, wiping quickly at the tears falling down her cheeks.

"Yes!" he said, holding back a sob. She hesitated as they both looked deep into each other's eyes, taking in each other's pain and the love that lay behind it.

"After everything, Chandler," she finally whispered brokenly, the heartbroken look on her face making his own heart break. " _All_ those years we were friends. After London and…and Vegas. Everything. You were my best friend. The love of my life. The other half of me…so how? How in the hell did you think that was going to happen?!"

He shook his head sharply back and forth, then wiped his eyes with the back of his hand.

"I'm sorry. I so sorry, Mon…"

Monica took in the sorrow in his face and suddenly stepped back, putting her hands on either side of her head. She was mad, angry, hurt, and at the same time felt so much love for him she didn't know what to do with herself. So she turned away from him and closed her eyes tight, trying to muffle her sobs.

"I will never…Mon, I will never forgive myself…" he started, his voice raspy and desperate as he stared at the back of her tense form, her shoulders shaking. "Dammit, I _hurt_ you and you are the _very_ _last_ _person_ I ever wanted to hurt. I let you down. Completely. I wasn't going to do it again! I thought I would be just…I thought I'd fail you. Again."

Her chin dropped to her chest, her shoulders shaking harder and, just as at the coffee house, he couldn't watch her fall apart and standby doing nothing. Quickly he walked straight to her, wrapping his arms around her and crossing them over hers, pulling her against him. He buried his lips in her hair as she fell back against his chest. Neither said a word as they both took deep breaths, once again trying to calm down.

"Every time I talked to Joey I tried to…to prepare myself," he finally said softly, in a shaking voice against her hair. "I kept waiting for him to tell me you were with someone and…and happy. And the last time I called Joey he said there was a…guy, Eric I think (she shook her head). He said you _seemed_ happy. So I..I told myself I could move…forward..."

"With Felicia," she whispered, then added with a pained sigh, "and her children."

She felt him nod against her hair. Her eyes closed, she let her body lay against his, relishing the protective peace his arms provided in the storm circling around them. For a couple minutes he just held her, the only sound other than their breathing was the wind whistling by them.

"I postponed my flight," he finally whispered, hesitantly. "I didn't cancel it."

Monica's eyes flew open and he felt her tense up in his arms. Slowly he turned her around and looked into her worried face, placing his hands on either side of her face, stroking his thumbs over her cheekbones. She laid her palms against his chest.

"She knows," he whispered as she searched his face. "She knew Saturday when you were there. If…if we'd never seen each other again maybe I could have kept pretending, but after last week…"

He closed his eyes and sighed. Monica moved closer to him, clutching his jacket around her fingers.

"I owe her an…explanation," he said, opening his eyes once more. "I owe her that much and…and the girls. I can't…I can't just drop out of their lives like that. Like I…like I did before…"

He looked away from her, guilt lining his face. Monica looked away, too, her eyes watery, then cleared her throat.

"What about us?" she whispered, searching his eyes. "Where do we go from here?"

He pulled her face closer and gently kissed her slightly quivering lips.

"That's up to you, Mon," he whispered gently against her mouth as she wrapped her arms around his back under his jacket. He laid his forehead to hers.

"I love you," he said softly, his voice cracking, "but we can't put us through another…breakup. You…you have to decide if you can live with such a…a flawed future with me."

Monica pulled back, completely stunned, and she shook her head.

"I don't care," she breathed. "Chandler, I don't care if you can't…if we can't…"

"Yes," he said evenly, "you do."

"No, I don't," she said earnestly, putting her hands on his cheeks, desperately searching his face.

"Monica, listen to me," he said. "We're running on a high here, OK? It's a lot to take at one time. A lot and I need to know… _you_ need to know for certain this is what you want. That you want to be with me, despite…everything…all the mistakes...everything."

"Chandler," she said, shaking his jacket in her fists, desperate to just hold onto him. "I do! That's about the _only_ thing I know right now, none of the rest of it matters..."

"But it might tomorrow," he said, raising his eyebrows and taking a step back from her, "or the next day, or the day after that. Sometime in the future it might and I need you to think about that, really, really think about it, OK?"

Monica stared at the determined look on his face and a shiver went down her spine. This wasn't the Chandler she knew three years ago. Yes, at his core he was the same, but he'd become so mature it nearly took her breath away. Standing in front of her was the man she always knew he'd turn out to be.

And it made her love him even more.

She swallowed hard. As much as she wanted to sweep the past under the rug and throw caution to the wind when it came to their future, neither one of them would survive another "goodbye."

Monica took a deep breath as she searched his pensive eyes.

"Please?" he whispered.

 _ **NOTE: Slowly but surely… :)**_

 _ **Thank you so much for your reviews!**_


	16. Chapter 16

Chandler held his breath as Monica studied him, looking deep into his clear blue eyes. She raised her arms and ran her hands through his short hair, relishing the way it felt, soft and full as the brown strands passed under her fingertips.

He searched her face, not sure what she was thinking. He was pretty certain he knew what she was feeling - profound relief, great regret, nearly reborn - because he was feeling all those emotions, too. But they needed time to absorb it all before deciding if this was it no matter what. To decide if they had what it took to go confidently into a challenging future and let go of all the ghosts of the past.

Finally Monica closed her eyes and moved into his arms, her hands wrapping up under his shoulders, pushing her body against his as fully as she could, as though she was trying to disappear into him through his embrace. She could hear his heartbeat thundering in his chest as his arms engulfed her tiny body. He held her tight against him, one arm securely around her entire waist, his other hand buried under her hair, holding her head against his chest. His lips brushed her hair.

"Monica?" he asked, in a quiet, quiet whisper. After just a moment he felt her nod gently against his jacket.

"OK," she mumbled, squeezing him even tighter. She felt him relax in her arms. She stepped back ever so slightly, tilting her head up to look at him.

"OK?" he repeated.

"OK," she nodded, "if that's what you need me to do, I will. I'll think about…it, us…what our future…us."

She cleared her throat.

"That's not everything, Chandler," she whispered, brushing a small, rouge tear from his cheek. "You live in California…"

He nodded.

"You have a job…a career, house, a…a life there," she said softly, deliberately not mentioning the people who were waiting for him in San Francisco, "and…I have the restaurant…"

Chandler took a deep breath.

"I know," he said quietly through his exhale. "I know…that's why…we just need some…"

He stopped and shook his head, silently cursing the irony of his next words.

"We need some time apart, some…space to try to get our heads on straight and think…"

"Pffft…" she said, nearly smirking at him in disbelief as she dismissively waved her hand. He grinned back at her, suddenly fighting the all-too-familiar urge to kiss her again. He closed his eyes and sighed in frustration, gripping his fingers securely at the top of her hips, laying his forehead against hers.

"I came back to the coffee house to talk to you, to try to explain…" he started, then added in a raspy whisper. "I didn't mean to kiss you like that…"

She felt her insides start to tremble, her dry lips parted as his forehead pressed firmer against hers, her hands sliding up his back again, gripping his shoulder blades beneath his leather jacket as her breathing became more shallow.

"Why did you?" she breathed, beginning to feel intoxicated again, feeling her need for him course through her veins.

"I saw you…hurting," he said shakily. "I watched you…seeing you so upset…seeing you…because of…me…"

He took a shaky breath as her lips lightly brushed the side of his jaw.

"I wanted to make it go away," he breathed as he rolled his head to the side, his eyes like slits as he slid his lips softly along her cheek. "I never want you to hurt again."

"Chandler…" she whispered as he cupped her cheek and his lips found hers once more. She pushed into him, massaging his lips with hers, feeling herself come alive under his touch.

He started to deepen the kiss when she softly pulled away.

"If you don't want me to hurt," she whispered with half-closed eyes, a pained look on her face as her fingers wrapped tightly around the sides of his open jacket against his chest. "Don't kiss me like this then…leave me again."

Chandler opened his eyes and stared down into hers, wondering how he was going to summon the strength to leave her now, when all he wanted to do was make love to her. All he wanted to do was prove to her that he'd never stopped loving her. Show her that she was the only one, the only one…but that was his heart talking. Not his head.

He swallowed hard and slowly backed away.

"OK," he said, with a nod, willing his turned-on body and his racing heart to settle down once again. "OK, yes, you-you're right. Yes…"

She grinned a little at him.

"Your idea," she reminded him with a raised eyebrow.

"Yeah…" he said, shaking his head slightly. Then he took a deep breath and glanced as his watch. He put his hands on his hips.

She froze then as her insecurity got the better of her.

"I better go now," he said softly. He began to turn toward the door when Monica suddenly grabbed his arm, turning him back towards her.

"Are you…are you going t-to see…her?" she asked, the anxiety plain in her voice. He nodded. She pursed her lips together and nodded only once, then she locked her blue eyes with his. His eyes softened at the worried look on her face.

"I…I don't…I'm not in love with her, Mon. I never was," he said gently. "I…I was falling for her kids and I…yes, I care about her very much. She's a good woman, but…"

He stopped and cleared his throat, looking away as Monica's eyes filled with tears. Despite everything, there was a small part of her that felt sorry for Felicia. Even if he wasn't in love with her, there was no doubt in Monica's mind Felicia had fallen for Chandler. And she knew exactly what it felt like to lose this man when you were in love with him.

"I've gotta go," he whispered, curling his fingers over hers, which were still clutching onto his jacket.

She looked at him pensively one more time, then she crossed her arms, hugging herself as she walked with him to the rooftop entrance. She sighed as she watched him pick up his bag from its door-stop position and hold open the door for her.

###

"Oh my God," Rachel said softly, looking at Joey with sad eyes. Phoebe sat speechless, motionless on the sofa next to her. Ross stared blankly into space, sitting with his elbows on his knees, hands folded in front of him on the chair next to them. Joey was sitting on the coffee table, his head lowered and his eyes closed.

When Monica and Chandler had spent more than a half-hour on the roof, Rachel had started to pace and openly speculate about what could possibly be taking them so long.

Phoebe had hesitantly suggested maybe Felicia was the sticking point between them. That maybe Chandler was as in love with her as he was with Monica, and what had happened at Central Perk earlier was just a reaction to bottled up, old feelings that dramatically came to the surface. That thought had infuriated Ross, who quickly rose from his chair and told them he had half a mind to go up to the roof himself.

Joey had stepped in front of him and told him to sit down again, saying he was certain he knew what the main topic of conversation was and, no, he didn't think Felicia had anything to do with it.

"How long has he known?" Phoebe finally asked, breaking the stunned silence in the room.

"A long time," Joey said quietly. "He found out when he was living with his Dad in Nevada."

All were quiet for a few moments, trying to digest the new information Joey had just revealed to them.

"How…how would he…I mean, why?" Rachel asked, somewhat incredulous. "What would make him want to get tested for _that_?"

Joey sighed, then began telling them the story Chandler told him at the bar the night before - about the sperm bank and wanting to get together enough cash to come home and try to make everything right again with Monica.

Ross stared intently at Joey as he spoke, then pursed his lips together as they all looked toward the front door of Apartment 20, hearing footsteps coming down the stairs in the hallway.

Phoebe got to her feet first and walked toward the doorway. She quietly opened the door and peeked out, seeing Monica in Chandler's arms on the landing, kissing him.

"Call me when you land," Monica said as their soft kiss broke. The others huddled around Phoebe and observed the couple in the hallway. Monica saw her friends in her peripheral vision, but ignored them.

"I will," he promised, his back to Apartment 20, overnight bag strap thrown over his shoulder. He kissed her forehead then looked into her eyes, which were quickly filling with tears.

"This isn't goodbye," he whispered, fighting back his own emotions. "I promise, it-it doesn't matter what you…decide, this isn't goodbye."

She nodded quickly, her hands cupping his cheeks.

"I know," she said, her voice thick. "I know…"

He cocked his gently head to the side, a look of sorrow mixed with desperation on his face.

"Promise me, Mon," he said, with a raspy voice. "You'll really think…"

"Chandler, I will," she interrupted, her voice catching in her throat. "I will."

"OK," he said, taking her hands from his face in both of his and curling them into his chest.

"I love you," he whispered, his eyes taking in every inch of her face.

"I love you," she echoed softly, her eyes doing the same.

The other four stepped back and gently closed the door as Chandler and Monica kissed softly one more time. Briefly they looked at one another before sitting back down where they had been before.

Slowly Monica walked back into her apartment, her head hung low and softly closed the door as four sets of eyes turned her direction.

Joey spoke first.

"Where's Chandler?" he asked. Monica looked up into the worried faces of their friends and tried to offer a small smile. Her heart was hammering and she felt like she had whiplash. On the outside she tried to remain calm, but on the inside her emotions were in a tailspin. She cleared her throat.

"He's flying back to California," she said quietly.

Rachel's hand flew to her mouth as she stifled a gasp. Monica walked over to the couch and sat heavily between her two girlfriends. Phoebe pulled her friend's head down onto her shoulder as Joey took her hand.

"What happened?" Rachel asked, stroking her arm.

Monica sighed heavily and closed her eyes.

"I don't even know," she said, her voice cracking. "I…he wants me to think about…us…before we jump back into a relationship."

"Why?" Rachel asked, throwing a glance at Joey.

"It's…um," Monica started, sitting up and looking down at Joey holding her hand and covering his hand with her other one. "You know, it's, um, complicated. There's a lot…there's a lot to work through."

Joey gave her hand a squeeze.

"Did he tell you _everything_?" Joey asked. Monica's head shot up and she snatched her hands away. She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Whatta mean?" she asked quickly.

"Monica…" he whispered, shifting uncomfortably on the coffee table.

"You _knew_?!" she said, somewhat accusingly.

"I only found out last night, Mon, I swear," he said earnestly. "When you guys all left Mike's place I…I went back to see if, I don't know, I could talk some sense into him. I saw you two dancing and I…we went for a drink and I kept bugging him and…and, yeah, he told me."

Monica wrapped her arms around herself, her face turning a little pink as she looked around the room.

"Did you tell everyone?" she asked hotly.

Phoebe nodded.

"He was trying to keep Ross from running up to the roof and throwing Chandler off the building," she said, gesturing to Monica's brother.

Ross rolled his eyes and shot Phoebe an exasperated look.

Monica stood up quickly and started to pace. It was going to be hard enough to think about everything Chandler wanted her to think about, what they really did need to think about, without having to keep the gang updated on her current thought process.

"It's true?" Rachel asked, standing herself. "He…can't…"

"No, he can't," Monica shot back at her, turning swiftly on her heels, her hands at fists at her sides, "and that's why he hasn't talked to me in three years. He didn't hate me…"

"That's good!" Rachel said.

"No, it's not!" Monica said loudly, tears stinging her eyes. "All this time I blamed myself and…and he was just too damn scared to tell me he can't…he can't make me pregnant. And you know what? You know what? _I don't even care_. I don't care if we can't have kids. We'll adopt kids…"

"Did you tell him that?" Joey asked, on his feet now, hands on his hips.

"Of course I told him that!" she said, nearly crying now out of frustration.

"Then why did he leave?" Phoebe asked, standing with her arms crossed, brow furrowed in confusion. "Is it…Felicia?"

Monica shook her head. No, she was confident now that it wasn't Felicia. She threw her head back and took a deep breath, closing her eyes. Then she looked at Phoebe.

"He wants me to take time to think about…us…without…the distractions of…" Monica shook her head, momentarily at a loss for words.

"Being in love?" Rachel asked softly.

Monica nodded her head, stifling a sob.

"Oh, he swears he's not," she said hoarsely, fighting back tears once more, "but it feels like he's…he's pushing me away again. Like he's…he's still scared I'm going to hurt him and he's giving me, us, an out…"

Rachel and Joey both opened their mouths to speak again as Ross, who had not said a word, finally rose from his chair.

"He's not giving you an out because he's scared of you," her brother said quietly, as all four sets of eyes turned to him. "He's giving you an out because he loves you."

"What does that mean?" Rachel asked, throwing up her hands. Ross sighed and focused his attention on Monica.

"Mon, ever since any of us have known you, you've wanted to have children of your own," he said softly, walking over to her and putting his hands on her shoulders. Monica sucked in her breath.

"When he knew he couldn't give that to you," Ross continued. "When he knew he couldn't make you happy in…that way, that's when he let go. That's when he tried to let you go."

Monica blinked rapidly, almost barely shaking her head "no" in disbelief. She glanced at Joey, whose eyes were filled with tears as he nodded in agreement with Ross.

"It's not because he didn't love you," Ross said, trying to smile a little at his sister, "but because he did. He does."

Monica slowly exhaled the breath she was holding. She took in the sincerity in her brother's eyes as her face broke into the biggest smile he'd seen from her in a long time.

And she threw herself into his arms, squeezing him tight, knowing exactly what she needed to do.

###

Chandler walked out of the airport toward the parking lot shuttles, digging out his Blackberry as he left the confines of the building. He hitched his bag over his shoulder then looked down at his phone.

He smiled, shaking his head. He had four missed calls from Monica.

He chuckled softly as he hit redial. Once the connection was made it took only one ring for her to pick up.

"Hey," he smiled into the phone.

"Hey," she breathed, a matching smile in the sound of her voice.

"I told you I'd call when I landed," he said, looking both ways as he crossed the service road to the shuttle.

"I know," she replied.

"I'm just getting ready to catch a bus to the parking lot…" he started.

"I know," she said, a little giggle in her voice.

He grinned.

"How do you know that?" he asked, taking a step up onto the sidewalk.

"Chandler," she said, a catch in her voice. "Look up."

He froze and raised his head, quickly looking from side to side.

"Look straight ahead," she almost whispered into the receiver.

He did and his jaw dropped, his heart beginning to race.

"Hello," she said, cell phone to her ear and a huge smile gracing her features as she stood against the concrete wall just beyond the parking lot shuttle line.

He watched her hair whip around her face in the San Francisco breeze as their eyes locked.

"It's me," she whispered.


	17. Chapter 17

_Remedy_

With a small, frustrated sigh Monica flipped her cell phone closed as once again the call went straight to voicemail when she dialed his Blackberry. Lord knows, she thought, she'd left him enough voicemails that went unanswered in the past. She wasn't going to leave another one – not now, not when her entire future hung in the balance, not when their new beginning was so close she could taste it.

Monica took a deep breath and looked off to her right as one shuttle bus after another slowly rolled down the service road that ran alongside the airport. She tried to make herself relax as much as possible, knowing if his phone was off it probably meant he was still in the air. He hadn't landed yet. She hadn't missed him.

Her stomach was tied up in knots. After Ross made her see, with so much clarity she was at a loss to explain how she had missed it before, the real reason Chandler had avoided her for so long, she jumped into action.

Leaving her brother and friends in a state of excited bewilderment in the living room, she ran to her bedroom and made a phone call to the one person she knew could help her. Then she hurriedly packed her overnight bag with only basic necessities and put her plan into motion. She blew through her apartment leaving little more than an "I'm going to California" in her wake. Joey, Phoebe, Rachel and Ross were all on her heels as she quickly walked out the front door. A wide grin had spread across her face as she'd heard Joey's enthusiastic "yeah, ya are!" echoing behind her as she ran down the stairs.

Five hours later she landed at San Francisco International Airport with little more than an educated guess as to which plane from New York he'd be coming in on. She didn't know which airport he was flying from, whether he had a layover somewhere in-between, or if, God forbid, Felicia was planning to meet him when he landed.

Her eyes scanned the airport exit one more time and she swallowed hard, looking at the women milling inside the sliding glass doors, and the few waiting to pick up people in the car line. None of them looked like Felicia, but Monica was on guard anyway.

She knew Chandler loved her. She knew it down deep in her soul, where it had always lived, locked away for the past three years. But, she also knew he cared about Felicia and, more importantly, had a large soft spot for her girls. The thought had crossed Monica's mind that Felicia knew as much and might use it to her advantage, making everything just that much harder for him.

But this time, if she came face-to-face with Chandler's soon-to-be ex-girlfriend, she wasn't going to back down. She was ready to fight for him and she knew now, without a doubt, she'd win.

That is, if she could convince Chandler she'd done all the thinking she had to do.

And that's what left her here against the concrete wall watching the airport shuttles pass by, stomach churning, as she waited for him to come through the doors. He'd be as surprised as he was last week, when she'd nervously phoned him and he'd actually picked up the call, setting their reunion into motion. Rekindling a flame that they now knew had never dimmed for either of them, but only proved with time to burn brighter and more beautiful than ever before.

Monica glanced down at her cell one more time before looking up, her heart slamming against her chest when she spotted him – blue jeans and black leather jacket, sun glasses buried in his hair on top of his head and his overnight bag over his shoulder. For a moment she just stared, soaking in the sight of him looking so incredibly handsome in the low light of the late-afternoon California sun, feeling like her heart was about ready to burst open.

She watched him dig out his phone and look at it, smiling and shaking his head. A moment later her cell phone vibrated in her already trembling hand.

"Hey," he said, her eyes never leaving his face as she saw him break into a big smile when she answered.

"Hey," she breathed, a matching smile spread across her features as he unknowingly began to cross the street and walk straight toward her.

"I told you I'd call when I landed," he said.

"I know," she said, her eyes filling with tears.

"I'm just getting ready to catch a bus to the parking lot…"

"I know," she said again, trying to stifle a giggle. He was less than 50 feet from her now.

She watched him grin, a mild look of confusion on his face.

"How do you know that?" he asked skeptically.

She took a deep breath.

"Chandler," she said, happy tears catching in the back of her throat. "Look up."

He immediately stopped walking as his head shot up and he quickly looked from left to right, everywhere but at her. She rolled her watery eyes just a little, a big grin frozen on her face.

"Look straight ahead," she hoarsely whispered.

Monica knew right then she would never forget the look on his face the moment his eyes locked with hers. His jaw dropped in shock as he continued to press his phone to his ear, but instantly his eyes turned soft and his features so tender she nearly broke down before she was able to say another word.

"Hello," she managed, the smile never leaving her face, but tears now threatening to run rampant down her cheeks. "It's me."

Chandler dropped his Blackberry to his side as she slowly closed her phone, watching him walk to her with a look of complete bewilderment on his face.

"H…How?" he said, now standing right in front of her, part of him wondering if he was hallucinating. She smiled and giggled at him, stowing her phone back in her purse.

"How?" he repeated more emphatically as she took his free hand hers and he buried his Blackberry in his pants pocket.

"I have my ways," she said, winking at him as she pulled him closer.

He softly shook his head as his heart raced through his ears, still barely believing she was standing in front of him as he now took both her hands in his.

"Did you acquire some sort of superpower in the last three years, cause, I gotta tell ya, that'd be pretty cool," he teased, giving her his lopsided grin.

She smiled like a crazy fool at his little joke, feeling the familiar warmth of his silly humor coat her heart like a warm blanket in winter time. She couldn't believe how much she'd missed it.

"As much as I'd like to tell you that, yes, I realized I'm Supergirl," she said, grinning as he chuckled, "that's not it."

He arched an eyebrow at her, still waiting for an explanation as he watched an adorable blush spread across her cheeks.

"I happen to know a billionaire with a private jet and a personal flight crew," she said, with a little shrug, "and, ya know, with the new babies he hasn't been able to use the plane much…and I, well, I told him it was an emergency..."

Chandler's jaw dropped again, the look in his eye incredulous.

"You're telling me you just called up Pete Becker and demanded his _private plane_ to fly out here?" he exclaimed in disbelief.

"I wouldn't say 'demanded'…" she said, a gleam in her eyes as she grinned up at him. He had a big smile on his face.

"Monica Elizabeth Geller!" he scolded half-heartedly, his eyes wide. "What kind of 'emergency' did you come up with to convince him to let his crew fly you to California?!"

He was giving her a teasing grin, but that question made the mirth leave Monica's eyes and she swallowed heavily, holding onto his hands tighter as she searched his face.

Chandler watched her face turn serious and he furrowed his brow.

"Mon?" he asked softly as her eyes filled with tears.

"I told him…I…" she started, her words catching in her throat. She squeezed his hands so hard they almost hurt. "I told him my…life kinda…depended on it."

He gasped a little.

"Oh, honey," he whispered, briefly closing his eyes.

"It does," she said, nodding and clearing her throat.

Chandler studied the earnest look on her face, then he sighed.

"Monica," he said, cocking his head to the side and trying to hide apprehension in his voice. "You promised me you'd think about this…"

"I have," she said, loosening her grip on his hands. He glanced at his watch.

"It's been six hours."

"It's been three years," she replied, as he dropped his bag beside him and crossed his arms over his chest, eyeing her carefully. She wrung her hands together then started gesturing broadly.

"Look, I know I…I've gone off the deep-end in the past about wanting children," she started, speaking quickly, but not failing to notice his eyebrows lift at her choice of words. "I know that and I do, I want to be a mom someday."

He nodded and started to speak, but she quickly put up her palm to silence him before one syllable escaped his lips.

"But, you…you never said you didn't _want_ kids, right?"

"Well, no…I," he started, dropping his hands at his sides, frustration creeping its way into his features, "I never said…I mean, yeah, but I can't…"

She put her hand up again and he put his hands on his hips, glaring at her but not saying any more.

"Just…yes or no, Chandler," she said, knowing the answer in her heart but wanting him to really listen to what she was saying. "Do you want to be a father some day?"

"Yes," he said, a little confused. Had he _not_ made that clear?

"Why?" she asked.

"Why?" he almost shouted, throwing his arms out to his sides, now totally confused. "Why? I don't know…I mean, they're…cool. Kids."

He shrugged, his eyes darting around, and she watched him closely as he struggled to put his feelings into words.

"I mean, I think they're…kinda fun and, ya know," he said, shrugging again, "they really…they're easy…well, not _easy_ , exactly…"

He looked at her then and the bemused look on her face relaxed him a little, so he grinned.

"They're easy to love," he finally said, and she nodded.

"And," she whispered, standing close to him again and running her hands down his arms, "do you think we'd love a family of our own any less if our babies weren't biologically connected to us?"

He sighed, looking lovingly into her adoring eyes, and shook his head.

"'Blood doesn't bond you to children,'" he quoted softly, running his finger down the side of her face. "'Love does.'"

"I think I heard that somewhere once," she said, beaming at him. He chuckled softly as they looked deeply into each other's eyes for a long moment, then he cleared his throat.

"You _know_ what you're giving up," he said, a serious tenor to his voice now as his eyes searched her face. She reached up and cupped his cheeks, then kissed him briefly, gently.

"I'm more than willing to give up what I've never had to spend the rest of my life with the _one person_ I can't live without," she whispered against his lips. She pulled back just enough to watch his bright blue eyes begin to swim with tears, and she felt his fingers grip tighter around her waist. Her heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest as she watched him try to keep his composure. She could feel him start to tremble and instinctively she knew what he was thinking – that he wasn't quite sure he was worthy of this second chance they were standing at the threshold of in that very moment.

She smiled softly as she gently plucked his sunglasses from atop his head and placed them on top of hers so she could run her finger through his hair.

And in her next words she tried to put those demons to rest once and for all.

"Maybe somewhere along the line I would have met the most perfect guy in the world," she whispered, words catching in her throat as tears escaped the corners of both her eyes and his, "and he wouldn't have stood a chance. There is no way I could have fallen in love with anyone else. There _is_ no one else, there is only _you_ , and…and if I can't get pregnant with _your_ baby I don't want to be pregnant at all."

He sucked back a sob and dropped his head, squeezing his eyes tight. She watched him with tears falling down her cheeks as the breeze and the shuttles passed by, holding her breath.

Chandler took a couple ragged breaths then looked down into eyes filled with so much love it stole it right back from him again.

"You're sure?" he asked in barely a whisper.

"Completely," she said, nodding and running her palm over his damp cheek. "I love you and I'm not letting you go."

He pulled her against him and captured her lips, kissing the breath right of her, as she kissed him back just as passionately – then they abruptly pulled apart when a nearby shuttle bus loudly honked its horn at the bus in front of it, oblivious to any tender moments playing out on the sidewalk.

Chandler took her hand in his and smiled.

"Next kiss, no audience," he smirked. "Deal?"

"Deal," she giggled. He grinned then reached down to pick up his bag then hers. She pulled his hand closer to her side as they made their way over to one of the buses, unable to keep the huge smile off her face.

He turned to her and gave her a sad little grin before they climbed on board

"You know there's something I have to…take care of on my own before…" he started. She nodded quickly.

"I know," she said, swallowing hard, "and I…I understand."

"OK," he said as he squeezed her hand a little tighter and they climbed aboard the shuttle to the parking lot.

###

Chandler unlocked the door to the penthouse with a heavy sigh and stepped inside, the only light illuminating the dark was a soft one coming from the master bedroom down a hall to the far left. It ran the length of the expansive floor to ceiling window-wall overlooking the bright lights of downtown San Francisco, the Golden Gate Bridge serving as the centerpiece of the spectacular nighttime view of the city.

He didn't really look at any of it as he set his keys and Blackberry on a nearby accent table.

As he took off his leather jacket he pulled a simple, white folded piece of paper out of the breast pocket. Throwing his jacket over a nearby chair, he gently unfolded the art work in his hands and studied it in the relative darkness of the foyer, a heaviness weighing on his heart…

 _"_ _I made it for you," Hallie whispered as she leaned against his leg in the kitchen when he kneeled down to hug her goodbye, "when Mommy said you had to move back to New York for work."_

 _He looked up at Felicia, who pursed her lips. The lie had just been easier to explain than the truth._

 _Chandler swallowed hard as he looked at her picture. She'd made a rough, children's image of the Statue of Liberty on one side, with a man who had sandy brown hair and blue eyes standing next to it, waving. On the other side of the paper stood two little girls and their mom, waving back, with a big bridge behind them._

 _"_ _It's really beautiful, Hallie," he whispered, gently hugging her. "I'll keep it forever. I promise."_

 _Hallie just briefly hugged his neck then ran over to Pat, who had stopped by to pick up his daughters for the weekend. Felicia had wanted him to leave with the girls before Chandler got there, but Pat gently insisted they stay to say goodbye._

 _Chandler took a deep breath and slowly stood up, having no idea how much longer he was going to be able to keep his emotions in check. He stole a glance at Felicia, who was looking over at her daughters with their father, and he felt about two feet tall._

 _"_ _Come on, girls," Pat said gently, turning them toward the door. Sadie, whose big brown eyes had been filled with tears since she'd clung to Chandler's leg when he walked through the door, waved at him one more time._

 _"_ _Bye bye, Chander," she said in a sad, little 3-year-old voice, making his heart break. "I miss you."_

 _Chandler tried hard to swallow the lump in his throat and almost succeeded as he croaked out "you, too, Pumpkin Girl."_

 _He swiped quickly at a tear in the corner of his eye as Pat nodded to him._

 _"_ _Chandler," he said simply._

 _"_ _Pat," he nodded back._

 _"_ _Bye, girls," Felicia said as cheerfully as she could, though her voice quivered just a bit. "I'll see you Sunday."_

 _"_ _Give your Mom another hug," Pat urged and the girls raced to their Mom. She bent down and hugged them close as Chandler closed his eyes and briefly turned his head away._

 _They'd both watched as Pat gathered everything up and walked out the door with his daughters. When he'd closed the door, Felicia crossed her arms and turned to Chandler._

 _"_ _So," she whispered, her eyes filling with tears, "it's really over now."_

 _Chandler sighed deeply, taking a small step toward her. When she tensed up, he stopped._

 _"_ _I'm so sorry, Felicia," he said gently, sincerely, "that's not enough, but I am."_

 _She shook her head, looked away from him a moment, then shook it again._

 _"_ _I should have known, when you were initially so reluctant to meet the girls, how you felt," she said, then added in a whisper, "or didn't feel."_

 _He crossed his arms and briefly tore his eyes from hers, trying to find the right words to say. He took a deep breath and looked at her once again._

 _"_ _I care about you, I hope you believe that, because I do, and those kids…" his voice caught and he ran his palm over his mouth and chin, not able to look her in the eye anymore._

 _"_ _But, it's not enough," he said softly. "It's not the kind of…it's not what you deserve."_

 _A tear escaped her eye and she nodded. He took another step towards her._

 _"_ _I want you to know that you…you made me…feel again," he said quietly, his voice shaking just a touch. "And I…I need t-to thank you for that."_

 _Her watery eyes searched his and she took a deep breath, then chuckled sadly._

 _"_ _You made me believe there are still good men out there," she whispered with a small smile. "For a little while anyway."_

 _He smirked sadly._

 _"…_ _and I know…I know you loved my girls," she said, a catch in her voice. "That's really what makes all this so hard…"_

 _Her voice trailed off. Chandler really wanted to reach out and hug her, just to offer some comfort, but he stopped himself, knowing that it wouldn't be fair to do so._

 _"_ _I'm sorry," he just whispered again. She just nodded and closed her eyes. They both were silent a minute or so longer, neither knowing what else to say. She took a deep breath._

 _"_ _I hope you're happy, Chandler," she whispered, no sarcasm in her voice but not able to look him in the eye._

 _"_ _You, too, I…ah," he stopped, his face turning a little pink at the doubtful look she gave him. Neither said another word for a moment or two as they each shuffled their feet in the kitchen._

 _"_ _Well, I have a pile of legal documents that need tended to," she said clearing her throat and nodding toward her office._

 _"_ _Yeah, yeah," he said, nodding his head and taking a step back. He picked up the small box of belongings she'd left for him on the kitchen island._

 _"_ _Yeah, so…" she smoothed down her slacks, then a moment later she stepped to him and brushed her lips against his cheek._

 _"_ _Goodbye, Chandler," she whispered, looking back at him with tears in her eyes before she turned the corner to the office. He swallowed hard._

 _"_ _Bye, Felicia," he whispered to the empty kitchen. He took one last look around, then folded Hallie's picture and placed it in his pocket before he walked out her door for the final time…_

"Chandler?"

He folded the picture and cleared his throat as Monica walked into the foyer, arms folded across her chest.

"Hey," he said, the tears plain in his voice. She frowned sadly at him.

"You OK?" she asked softly, placing a hand on his arm.

"Yeah, yeah, fine," he said, trying to offer her a small smile and a little nod. She pointed to the paper in his hand.

"What's that?"

Chandler slowly unfolded it and turned on the small table lamp as Monica looked at the crayon drawing.

"Oh," she said, putting a hand over her mouth and looking up at him with compassionate eyes.

"Hallie made it for me," he whispered. "She, ah, Felicia told them I was moving to New York for work. It was just…"

When he didn't say anymore she just nodded.

"Oh, Chandler, I know how much you care about those little girls," she whispered, gently laying the artwork on the table as she crossed her arms pensively over her chest once again, looking around almost nervously, feeling guilty despite everything.

Chandler stood in front of her and ran his hands down her arms, taking both her hands. Her watery blue eyes searched his.

"Yeah," he nodded, his voice thick, "but in a little while they won't even remember…me, and…Felicia…"

He closed his eyes, a pained look on his face, then briefly shook his head. Monica studied him, heart in her throat as he swallowed hard.

"I…hope she…she deserves someone who can give her more than I _ever_ could have," he said quietly, cupping Monica's cheek in his hand, "someone whose heart didn't always permanently belong to someone else."

Monica moaned softly as she closed her eyes and placed her hand over his. She pushed his palm against her cheek, a lone tear running down over his fingers, and clutched his shirt with her other fist. Chandler cupped her face in both his hands, gently lifting her face to his.

When his lips touched hers Monica started to cry harder, love and relief pouring out of her as she pulled him closer, tasting his tears mixing with hers.

Chandler's fingers ran up into her hair as her arms circled around his back to clutch his shoulders, each whispering softly "I love you" with every breath they'd take…

 ** _NOTE: There is one more chapter and the epilogue to go. I'm sorry it's taking so long to get them done, but I do thank each of you for sticking with this and for all your reviews. Thank you to everyone who is simply reading this story. You've blessed me…_**


	18. Chapter 18

Monica's right palm smacked against the cool wall in the penthouse foyer, briefly cushioning her fall against it as her left leg wrapped around the back of his right. The fingers on her other hand wrapped themselves tight around his short hair, keeping his lips hard against hers. Chandler moaned as she tugged on him, throwing his body against hers rougher than he intended, causing her to gasp out and him to inch back for just a moment before her mouth found his again.

Chandler's right knee started to bend uncomfortably as her strong leg wound around his, pulling him as close to her as she could. There was no longer anything, or anyone, left to stop them from allowing their long-suppressed longing to roam free. Surging through both of them was a thrilling rush and throbbing need that only being with one another again could activate. The desire to be one was beyond overwhelming.

His hands steadied his aching body on the wall behind her. They continued to kiss deeply, barely breathing, both of them breaking into a fine sweat as their tears dried on their cheeks, long forgotten in the all-consuming passion that had taken over their senses.

He traced her lips again with his tongue as he moved his hands from the wall, his palms slowly massaging the sides of her body as they made their way lower. Monica shivered as his fingers moved over her, moaning into his mouth when she wrapped her arms around his neck. A ragged, desperate whimper surfaced from deep inside her as he started to rock against her, the feeling of his need pressed to her making her knees go weak.

Suddenly his hands were on her shaking legs and he lifted her, pining her body firmer against the wall. He ran his hands down the sides of her slacks to her knees as she wrapped her legs behind his back, taking his face in her hands as his fingertips caressed back and forth over her thighs.

Finally he moved his lips to her neck as she clung to him, trying to take deep breaths, soaking in the feel of his mouth on her skin once again.

"Chandler…" she breathed in a slow whisper, her forehead falling against his shoulder as he sucked as lightly as he could, in the familiar place his mouth knew where to find just below her ear. "Ah…God…I missed you…oh, how I missed you…"

Monica breathed him in, his scent filling her mind and bursting her heart as she clutched at his back. She tried to catch her breath and did her best to focus on the moment. She wanted to make sure she never forgot what it felt like to have his body pressed to hers, his heart pounding against her chest, to just _feel_ him again.

Every nightmare she ever had about losing him forever turned to every daydream she'd let herself live out in her fantasies of getting him back - somehow, someday. And now he was with her, he loved her. He was finally, finally back in her arms.

Chandler brought his lips back to hers, knowing he'd never get enough of her taste, the way she felt in his arms. He'd almost forgotten this, how the way she responded to him made him feel invincible. He'd made love to her hundred times, a thousand times again in his dreams, but never had he felt such a strong urge to rediscover her. He wanted to worship every inch of her and they'd been apart far too long to take this moment for granted.

With one more fervent kiss he pulled back and opened his eyes, grunting out softly as he licked his red, swollen lips while gazing at hers. She tightened her arms around his neck and legs around his waist, both of them breathing heavily as they gasped for air. Chandler ran his hands up under her shoulders and folded them into her hair as he laid his forehead against hers. Her head rested in his hands back against the wall, their hot, labored breathing mingling in the air between them.

"I need you so badly," she whispered gently, pleadingly, tightening her grip even more. "I _need_ you…"

He whimpered and kissed her cheeks, her nose, her chin…

"I need you, too…God, Mon…" he gasped out against her mouth, his lips ever so slightly grazing hers. "I want you right now, but not…not like this…"

Her dazed stare gazed into his blazing blue eyes as he gently lowered her to the ground and took her hand in his.

"Come," was all he said as he moved her through the penthouse and down the long hallway to the master bedroom. When they entered he flipped off the switch which had been illuminating the small light on the nightstand, leaving no artificial light on in the room.

Monica felt her heartbeat pounding through her as he let go of her hand and turned down the sheets of his gigantic bed. She was so focused on watching him move she barely noticed the clear night shining in from outside through the window wall, the moon casting a silver shadow through the darkness, making the white sheets of his bed light up like a summer cloud. The bright lights of San Francisco and her famous bridge played in the black waters of the bay below, but she gave the scene but a momentary glance before bringing her eyes back to their only focus. All she could see was him as both time and her heartbeat seemed to somehow slowdown in anticipation of what was to come.

Chandler's breath hitched as he looked beyond the bed and he caught her image in the moonlight, her bright eyes zeroed in like lasers on his. He swallowed heavily, fighting the urge to move as quickly as they were just minutes ago, willing his senses and his body to calm. Suddenly his thoughts took him back to the first time they'd come together in a blaze of passionate glory - in London. It had taken them both by surprise. He supposed this had, too. If she'd not called, if he'd not answered, if they'd never seen one another again…he momentarily trembled from head to toe.

Monica walked closer to the foot of his bed, her eyes never leaving him as he gathered himself as best he could and met her there. When their eyes met, she grinned at him and he grinned back, then she took the bottom of his black shirt in her hands, beginning to quickly unbutton it from the bottom up. He gently but firmly cupped her face in his hands, urging her to look up from her task. She searched his eyes in confusion for only a moment before he covered her lips with soft kisses.

As he whispered "I love you" she laid her palm flat against his stomach under his partially undone shirt and leaned into him. Taking his cue she began to more slowly undo the rest of the buttons on his shirt and pushed it gently off his shoulders.

She gasped as he bent his arm to cup her face once again, then she giggled lightly, running her fingertips over his bicep.

"You _have_ been working out," she whispered, giving him a cheeky grin. He smirked at her.

"Don't get too used to it," he teased softly, as goosebumps popped up all over his arm as she continued to stroke him, the brush of mirth in the moment suddenly dissipating as she studied him. She ran her fingers over both his arms and shoulders as Chandler closed his eyes, shivers coursing down his spine. Monica spread her hands over his chest, softly touching him, running her palms over his stomach and around, up his smooth, smooth back.

Chandler quickly sucked in his breath as Monica dropped her head against his chest, taking a deep breath, a smile playing on her lips. She began to kiss him softly, from his collarbone to the spot right over his heart, stroking his back and pulling him close.

"Monica," he breathed, his voice a mixture of pleasure and pain as his hands found the hem of her sweater and waistline of her slacks. He ran his fingertips against the bare skin at the small of her back and she moaned, tilting her head up and kissing his mouth once again.

Slowly, oh so slowly, he pulled the soft, thin sweater over her head. Without moving away he unclasped her bra and traced a line of kisses along her freckled shoulders as he brought down the straps over her arms. As she stood half-naked before him, Chandler pulled back to look at her. Her eyes filled with tears at the familiar expression of absolute adoration on his face. They started to fall when she threw her head back, his lips working their way over her shoulders, taking time to stop and explore her breasts before he fell to his knees.

Monica looked down and buried her hands in his hair as he placed short, soft kisses over the skin on her stomach. He looked up at her, the tears in his eyes matching hers for only a moment, before he spread his hands over her hips and pulled her closer to him. She gasped then moaned, her chin dropping fully to her chest when his tongue found her bellybutton, sending shockwave after shockwave of pleasure through her. And she couldn't fight it anymore.

"Chandler," she begged, her breath heavy and shallow once again. "Now…oh, God, please now..."

Chandler's mouth stayed against her stomach as he brought down her slacks and panties in one motion. Then he took off her shoes and socks in the next, as he ran his cheek along her upper thigh. Monica was gasping now, being on the verge of their lovemaking making her body ache painfully as he stood up again.

She immediately undid his jeans and they pulled them and his boxers down as he kicked out of his socks and shoes. She whimpered loudly as she took him in her hands, listening to his heavy breathing in her ear.

He finally nudged her onto to the bed and she scooted on her back toward the headboard, Chandler's body looming over her as he crawled above her in the same direction. Their eyes were locked, desire, love and lust palpable between them. Monica's hair feathered out on the smooth white pillows beneath her and her arms landed back on either side of her head. Chandler slid both hands up her arms and entwined his fingers with hers, his mouth capturing hers in a deep, soul-searching kiss that left them both seeing stars in the midnight glow of the bedroom.

Slowly Chandler lowered his body to rest between her legs, their kisses slower now as they held tight onto each other's hands. She bucked against him, her body pulsating, dying to feel him inside of her.

"I always wanted you," he whispered raggedly, reassuringly against her lips as she guided him into her. "I never stopped loving you…my heart, my love…my…Monica…"

"Ohhh…" she moaned, more tears stinging her eyes as he filled her once again. "Oh, God…oh God…love you…Chandler…I…I"

Hot tears endlessly escaped the corners of her eyes as he started to move. Chandler pulled back to look at her, sorrow and regret mixing with the love on his face. He kissed the tears at her temples and started to move again, when he heard her faintly whisper, "stop."

He froze and looked worriedly into her face, his heart pounding, his eyes questioning her. Their hands unclasped and he wrapped his arms around her back, holding her close. She frowned in an effort to get her crying under control as she studied his features in the silver light, securing her legs tighter around him. She ran her hands along his cheeks a couple times, trying to find her voice to express what she was feeling.

"Just for a moment, please, stop," she said in barely a whisper, her watery eyes searching his. She took a deep, shaky breath as her eyes fluttered closed.

"I need to…feel you here…us, together," she said so softly he could barely hear her. "For just a…a…I need to feel you…"

Chandler swallowed the lump in his throat, all the love he felt for her right then surging through him stronger than anything he'd ever felt in his life. His eyes softened as hers opened into slits and she gave him a gentle smile.

He knew exactly what she needed - to feel the rebirth of their bond as their bodies and souls found their way home again. They needed to savor it, this moment where they came back together, when all the broken pieces of the past were unbroken and made stronger.

He gathered her impossibly closer to him and gently kissed her trembling lips.

"OK," he whispered, nodding as he kissed her. "It's OK, sweetheart, I understand. I do. I do…"

Monica let out the breath she was holding through quivering lips and nodded, the love in her eyes leaping right into his heart. Slowly he brought his lips back to hers and they kissed each other gently, over and over again. Before long he felt her body tense around him, and soon after she started moving her hips under him. He smiled against her mouth and she smiled back as he began to move, giving birth once again to the love they had made all those years ago.

 _ **NOTE: Hope you'll forgive me for 2 things…**_

 _ **First, well, there will be another chapter before the epilogue. I feel there are still a couple of key topics they need to cover, and although this update is a little shorter, (the next one might be, too) this part went on longer than I anticipated it would. And, boy, I hope I kept it to a "T" rating (eek!).**_

 _ **Second, it's taking forever for me to post (I write all the time now, so I'm a little tapped out most days), but I really hope you'll stick around to see how this ends, whenever it ends…**_

 _ **Thank you so much for your reviews. They mean a lot, so please let me know what you think. :)**_


	19. Chapter 19

_Lovesong (I know it's not from 25, but it's still Adele ;)_

Monica laid back nestled between his arm and chest. She held his hand in hers, playing with his fingers as she placed her other palm against his in the dark shadows of the room as they lay entwined in the middle of the bed.

She knew after this endless day that started in heartbreak in New York and paradise in San Francisco she should be fast asleep in these early morning hours. Her exhausted body should have given into slumber, especially after they had made such precious, soul-affirming love so intensely, so many times, once again trying to make up for lost time. Monica knew somewhere deep inside their hearts had always known they belonged with each other. Just like they'd known all those years ago in London, just like they knew tonight.

Physically she should have been completely spent, and maybe she was, but emotionally she hadn't recovered. She couldn't bring herself to close her eyes. She couldn't risk opening them again just to find that it was all a dream.

She slide her smaller hand up his palm and laced their fingers together. She grinned when he squeezed them then wrapped his arm over her across her shoulders.

"I thought you were asleep," she whispered, hooking her hands over his arm.

"I thought you were," he whispered back, his voice deep and raspy against her hair.

She sighed deeply, pushing his arm against her lips, then she swallowed nervously.

"Chandler, do you…do you need some time?" she asked softly. He chuckled a little.

"Um…I'm not in my 20s anymore, so I might need _some_ time, but…"

She smirked into the darkness.

"That's not what I meant," she said, a smile pulling at her lips. She could feel him smile against her hair. "I'm serious. Do you need some time to…adjust?"

Chandler furrowed his brow and moved to sit up in the bed. Monica turned towards him, studying his face in the darkness.

"Adjust…?" he asked in confusion. He placed her hand into his and could see her big blue eyes glistening.

"Yeah," she said softly. "I mean…things didn't…change much for me when you…they haven't changed much in three years, ya know?"

He cocked his head, but stayed silent, stroking her hand with his thumb.

"I live in the same place, I have the same friends around me, everything was the same, the only difference was…you," she explained, running her free hand over his cheek. "Having you back would be…easy. You'd just fit again, ya know?"

"You mean like an old sock," he said, giving her a teasing grin. She smiled and briefly shook her head.

"What I mean is, it wouldn't be that big of an adjustment for me," she said. "It's all I've wanted, to have you back again."

Her voice caught as her watery eyes searched his. He squeezed her hand, urging her to continue with a soft look on his face.

"Everything for you has been completely different," she said, quietly. "You really…you moved on. We didn't even talk to each other before last week."

She shrugged as Chandler's eyes slowly dropped to the bedsheet.

"I just wonder if…if you need time to…to fit me into your life again," she said softly. "I mean…I haven't been part of your world for a long time now…"

Chandler looked up at her then through the silver moonlight, which bathed her face and cast his in shadow, masking the tears in his eyes. He briefly shook his head then reached past her, pulling open a small drawer in the nightstand next to her.

"Not true," he whispered, then he cleared his throat.

Monica watched him closely as he pulled out a cell phone and placed it in her hands.

"Chandler?" she whispered quietly, her eyes fixed in confusion. "Is this your old…"

"Yeah," he said with a nod, his voice catching just a bit. "Go to the…go to voicemail."

Monica looked down at the device in disbelief as her shaking fingers found the voicemail button and the small screen lit up, casting a soft glow on her face as she looked back at him.

"Pick a date," he said quietly, a tremor still in his voice.

Monica pursed her lips, then took a deep breath.

"March 17th, 2000," she whispered. He nodded and she pressed "play." She watched as Chandler very softly said every word along with the voicemail as it filled the quiet room…

 _"Top of the mornin' to you, baby (nervous giggle). Did that come off Irish at all? I guess I should get my money back from the fake accent university, huh? Listen, I know you're in a meeting, but I just wanted to say 'I love you' and let you know someone's little leprechaun is going to get lucky tonight…"_

Tears filled her eyes as Chandler smiled softly at her. "Another one," he urged with a nod.

"April 30th," she said as she hit "play" and again he spoke along with the recording…

 _"Chandler, sweetie, can you get out of dinner tonight with Doug? It's been a long day. I think I may just take a bath and go to bed. I'm sorry, I'm just really beat. I love you. Just, ah, call me when you get a minute, OK?"_

Tears began to hit her cheeks as Monica picked a date after the awful day he left. She sucked in her breath then whispered in a thin voice, "June 1st." Chandler's eyes filled with tears and he swallowed hard, then nodded…

 _"Goddammit! Where are you?! Everyone's worried about you! Please at least call Joey, call someone! I know you don't want to talk to me. OK? I know that, but please call someone, please, Chandler! (silence, then a strangled whisper) Chandler? Where are you?!"_

Chandler whispered the words back to her until about half-way through the message, then he hung his head and his shoulders slumped. Monica squeezed her eyes closed, clutched the phone to her chest and whimpered. The voicemail had hardly sounded like her, but she remembered it vividly. She remembered how out of her mind with worry she'd been then, not knowing where he was, whether he was OK or not. Monica felt like her heart was going to burst from old pain as she swallowed heavily, trying to read his body language in the dark as he regained his composure. He finally took a deep breath and raised his head.

"I thought you threw this away," she said quietly, but determined to get an explanation.

"I know," he said, shaking his head. "I didn't listen to it, any of it, until I was at my Dad's…and by then…"

His voice was shaking. Monica reached for him, one hand curled around his old phone, the other holding tight onto his hand.

"I thought of throwing it away a hundred times," he said quietly, "but it was all I had."

He sucked in a deep breath, finally looking into her eyes.

"I never could let you go," he whispered, sounding so small, so lost that Monica crawled into his lap to hold him, tears running fast down her face as she tried to take deep breaths. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing his head to hers, then continued as best he could while dropping kisses on her temple and into her hair…

"Sometimes I just…I needed to hear your voice. I needed to…remember I made you happy once, or I.. I needed you to yell at me. I…just…I would pull out that old phone when I just…missed you. When I needed to feel close to you again."

She dropped the phone to the bed and pulled back just enough to thumb-stroke the tears away from his eyes, her heart in her throat as she cried.

"You were with me," he whispered, the heartbreaking look on his face making her weak. "I never really let you go. You were always a part of my world, even if you didn't know it."

"Oh, my sweet, sweet man," she whispered brokenly, pulling his face to hers and kissing him soundly, albeit briefly. He stroked her hair, trying to smile a little as she caught her breath in an attempt to control her emotions.

"If you hadn't called, again, last week…" he started, searching her tear-soaked face. He kissed her softly as he tried to gather himself again, then leaned his forehead to hers. "I would have gone on living…contently, I guess, but with a half-broken heart, convinced that's just the way it was going to be and, every once in a while, listening to an old voicemail just to stop the bleeding..."

Monica searched his eyes, wanting to say so many things to him, but coherent words weren't forming for her, so she whispered the only thing that naturally came out of her as she pushed him back down on the bed, her salty lips crushing his…

"Oh…I love you, Chandler. I love you…"

###

Chandler slid out of bed, pulled on his boxer briefs and grinned as he walked across the bedroom in the early light of dawn, wrapping his arms around a half-clad and sleepy Monica as she looked out the window-wall.

"The fog is incredible," she whispered, falling back into his embrace as he nodded, looking out over the bay. The only thing visible was the very top of the Golden Gate Bridge.

"It's something, isn't it?" he asked.

"It's…beautiful," she breathed, "like we're floating on a cloud."

"Well, we are," he said softly.

She closed her eyes and nodded her head as she laid back against him, clutching his arms tightly in her hands.

"God am I glad you're here," he whispered, securing his arms around his black shirt, which hung like a nightgown over her slight form.

"Me, too," she said in barely a whisper.

For a few minutes he held her against him as they simply watched the fog roll by, then she yawned and he did, too.

"I made some coffee," she whispered. "You don't have much else here - food or otherwise."

He shrugged and gently grazed her hair with his lips.

"I'm just a glorified house-sitter," he said. "This is really Steve Young's penthouse. Me living here is just part of my commission, until he figures out what he wants to do with the place."

"What?" she said, turning around in his arms. "You mean, you don't have your own place here?"

He shook his head.

"Never did," he said, with a little grin

"So, you can up and move whenever you want?" she said, excitement creeping into her voice.

"That's right," he grinned.

"Oh, that makes things…interesting," she said, hugging him tight. Monica breathed him in, a smile on her lips as he held her.

"Starting a new collection?" he asked after a moment as he pinched his shirt between his thumb and forefinger.

"No," she said softly. "I'm just adding to the one I already have."

"You already have?" he said, surprise in his voice and on his face as he tilted her chin up with his finger to look into her eyes. "But, I thought you sent everything to…"

"I kept those three I always wore," she confessed. As she watched his eyes turn soft she took a deep breath.

"I packed them away after our dance the other night," she whispered, a catch in her throat as her eyes searched his. She found herself drowning in the light blue, wondering how she ever thought she could give him up. "I was trying to…I was really determined to let you go."

"Monica…" he breathed, the look in her eyes and the softness of her voice making his heart pound heavily.

"I watched you walk out of the coffee house, convinced it was for the best," she said, her voice quivering as she braced herself in his arms. "I was going to let you go, too."

"You were," he said, the realization suddenly dawning on him. He'd known - by the look on her face, by the devotion in her eyes - that she still loved him, but she never had said a word. He furrowed his brow.

"Why?"

She smiled softly at him, that same devotion now beaming from her beautiful blue eyes.

"Because I love you," she said, shaking her head as her eyes watered, "and if you were really happy with…her…I wasn't going to hurt you…like, like he hurt us. I just wasn't."

It took only a second for him to know exactly who she was talking about. The man whose timing could not have been worse. The man he would always regret not staying and fighting back then to keep her and her love right where they had always belonged.

"Oh, baby," he said, shaking his head then kissing her forehead, blinking the tears away from his eyes. She smiled sadly at him as she ran her fingers lightly over his bare shoulders.

"If you hadn't come back," she whispered softly, shaking her head in disbelief. "I would have gone on living, too, just like you - with a half-broken heart."

He sighed deeply and wrapped his arms more securely around her waist.

"Oh my God," he whispered, tears in the corners of his eyes as they looked into hers. "That's so damn depressing."

"I know!" she said and he grinned as she pushed herself more fully against him, wrapping her arms around his back.

"I love you Monica Geller and I'm never going to give you up," he said, raising his eyebrows at her in a teasing challenge.

"I love you, too, Chandler Bing," she said right back to him, "and now that I have you again, I am never, ever, giving you up."

He grinned and kissed the bridge of her nose. She closed her eyes and smiled.

"I can't wait to start building our future," she said, peeking up at him with sleepy eyes. He nodded, then stifled a yawn.

"Tomorrow," he said.

"Tomorrow?" she asked.

"Tomorrow," he repeated, and she nodded with eyes like slits but a wide grin on her face.

"Today we sleep the day away," he whispered, pulling her back to the bed. She smiled, happy tears in her eyes as she ran her palm over his bare chest, then leaned down onto him as his head hit the pillow. She lazily kissed his jaw, then his neck as he pulled the sheets over them both and she snuggled into his embrace.

"I'll hold you in my arms," he continued softly as she sighed deeply, listening to the rumble of his voice in his chest as his hold on her tightened, "and when we wake up the fog will have lifted and we'll start a new life. Together."

Monica sniffed as a tear ran down her nose and landed on his skin. She pressed her lips to it and kissed him.

"A new life," she breathed, her eyes closed, but her heart wide open. "A new world. Together."

"Forever, Mon," he said, kissing her hair as his eyes closed against early morning fog.

"Forever," she echoed quietly as she slowly drifted off to dream of tomorrow, knowing from now on she'd wake up with Chandler by her side.

 _ **NOTE: An enormous "thank you" for your patience. It's more appreciated than you'll ever know. So is your feedback. I am very grateful for both. An epilogue will follow - when is anyone's guess, but I don't think it will be too long from now.**_

 _ **To anyone who's stuck with this story…thank you, thank you, a thousand times thank you!**_


	20. Chapter 20 - Epilogue

_Sweetest Devotion -_ _Six years later…_

"You are the only two people I know who would move into a new apartment _the exact same day_ you are adding a new addition to your family!" Rachel said in exasperation as she helped Monica put the dishes into the spotless white cabinets above the glistening granite countertops in the huge kitchen of the Bing's new 2,000-square-foot Manhattan high-rise.

"We couldn't pass it up!" Monica said in excitement, though her eyes were like lasers as she focused on the task at hand, "I mean in this market, it was a steal."

"Spoken like a true real estate pro," Chandler said with a grin as he walked into the new kitchen at that very moment and wrapped his arms around his wife from behind.

Monica smiled and briefly closed her eyes as he kissed her hair.

"The timing wasn't ideal…" she admitted.

"If we'd waited any longer someone else would have bought it and flipped it…" Chandler started.

"Which we're _not_ going to do," she said definitively as she smirked at him over her shoulder.

"Which we're _not_ going to do," he repeated with a nod, "but it is going to be a little crazy around here for a while."

"When is it not crazy with you guys?" Rachel said, but softened her words with a smirk as she watched her friends smile softly at one another before Chandler kissed Monica's hair once again and left the kitchen. Monica, a goofy grin lingering on her face, refocused her energy on her dishes. Rachel shook her head, amused, but thinking as she always did about how perfect it was to have everything back the way it was supposed to be.

Chandler had moved back to New York the weekend of Javu's grand opening, though that hadn't originally been the plan. He'd told Monica he had business to wrap up in California and wouldn't be able to make it back until the week after. Monica's disappointment was minimal, considering plans were very much underway for him to come home and restart their life together. But Chandler had other ideas…

 _"Monica!" Joey said excitedly as he came into the kitchen of Javu, unauthorized._

 _"Joey!" Monica said, exasperated, as she flew from one end of the kitchen to the other, "you're not supposed to be back here!"_

 _"I know, I know," he said, wide smile on his face, gesturing out toward the dining room, "but, ah,_ someone _wants to compliment the chef."_

 _"I can't do that right now," she said, turning down one burner and turning up another, "I'm feeding like 100 people…"_

 _"I know, but…" Joey started._

 _"Monica, get your sweet ass out here!" Phoebe demanded, poking her head in the kitchen door._

 _Monica turned and shot her a scathing look, but seeing the huge smile on both their faces made her stomach flip. Could it be…?_

 _She ripped off her chef's hat and ran past Joey and Phoebe into the dining room. She spotted him immediately, not far from the front door, talking with her parents and Cory._

 _"Chandler!" Joey bellowed behind her, and Chandler turned his head, breaking into a huge smile when he spotted her. Monica smiled and ran to him. He hugged her so hard he lifted her off the ground._

 _"What are you doing here?" she asked, breathless, as her feet finally touched the Brazilian hardwood again._

 _"Like I was gonna miss this!" he said, with a laugh. "Not for the world, babe. You better've saved me a brown-leather-backed chair."_

 _"I'll kick someone out of one if I need to," she said, her smile stretching her cheeks. "I am in charge, ya know."_

 _Chandler chuckled, then looked at the crowd around him._

 _"I'm so proud of you," he said, putting his hands on her hips._

 _"Thank you," she said as she reached up to kiss him. "I love you."_

 _"I love you, too," he said, grinning._

 _"I gotta get back to the kitchen," she said, looking over her shoulder._

 _"Not yet," he said. She gave him a quizzical look then he spun her around._

 _"Ladies and gentlemen," he announced over the conversation buzz, "Please meet Javu's master chef, Monica Geller!"_

 _He gestured broadly to her and stepped back as she basked in the glow of their applause, her smile lighting up the whole room. And when she turned it directly to him, it lit up his whole world…_

Rachel remembered the romance of it all very well. After it was all over Monica actually said her cheeks hurt from smiling so much, she was so happy. Chandler beamed with pride for the woman he loved, overjoyed to be sharing the grand opening with her and all the success that followed.

Rachel, needing a place to stay when Chandler moved home to Apartment 20, went to live with Ross. Joey offered, too, but refused to take "naked Thursdays" off the table so Rachel accepted Ross's offer instead. Witnessing all the pain Monica and Chandler suffered apart, and all the happiness their reunion brought to not only them but the whole group, had a positive effect on Rachel and Ross. Tag left the picture entirely and old feelings started to surface again.

The two slowly worked on their relationship one more time. After a couple years they finally decided they wanted to be together after all and had been married almost two years now.

Monica and Chandler's reconciliation had quite the effect on Mike and Phoebe, too. Mike, who had admittedly been gun-shy about marriage since his divorce, decided he didn't want to take any chances on losing the love of his life. He proposed to Phoebe in a piano medley in the soft lights and flickering candles of his restaurant the fall after Chandler moved back to New York. All the friends were there, crying and offering their support to the happy couple. Phoebe and Mike planned a late winter wedding and it was at that wedding when Monica's ultimate dream finally came true…

 _"Mike sure has piped in some classic 80s sap for this shindig," Chandler chuckled as he took a spin with Monica on the dance floor where they once thought they'd shared their last dance. Monica smirked at him as she twirled under his outstretched arm, then fell right back against him when the mellow sounds of the next song filled the restaurant._

 _"He can't exactly be the piano man_ and _the groom at the same time," Monica said, smiling up at him._

 _"You mean 'slacker piano man,'" Chandler said with a soft smirk._

 _"Oh, hush," Monica said, lightly slapping him on the shoulder as the next song changed their dancing to a slightly faster tempo. Chandler groaned._

 _"Seriously?" he asked, incredulous. "This is just disco now."_

 _Monica threw him an exasperated look that turned seductive as she put his hands on her hips and started to move in rhythm to the song that was playing._

 _Chandler rewarded her with a sexy little grin and a gleam in his eye as she wrapped her hands around his shoulders. She licked her lips when his hips started to move against hers. Chandler's breath caught as she pulled him closer in time with the music._

 _"Are you complaining now?" she whispered in his ear._

 _"No, Ma'am," he whispered back…_

"Thinking back in time,

When love was only in my mind

I realize

Ain't no second chance

You've got to hold on to romance

Don't let it slide…

 _Monica smiled back at him, then immediately felt her heart slam against her chest. She was caught in an intense stare, which had swiftly taken the place of the playful teasing she'd seen in his sky blue eyes just moments before. She swallowed heavily as their gaze remained locked, their bodies moving in perfect harmony together on the dancefloor…_

…Baby, come to me

Let me put my arms around you

This was meant to be

And I'm oh, so glad I found you

Need you everyday

Gotta have your love around me

Baby, always stay

Cause I can't go back to living without you…

 _Tears started to form in Monica's eyes as they continued to look into his, and he nodded, instantly understanding all that she was feeling. They both knew it would take a long time, and a lot of work, to completely heal old wounds - neither one of them having quite gotten over the pain of being apart for so long._

 _With a deep sigh and a soft smile, Chandler pulled her closer as he closed his eyes._

 _"I can't go back to living without you," he whispered into her hair as he felt her arms tighten around him, molding her body to his. Monica shook her head softly against his chest as she blinked rapidly, trying to get her threatening tears under control. Phoebe's wedding reception wasn't exactly the place to have an emotional breakdown._

 _Monica pulled back from him a little and cleared her throat, still blinking._

 _"I'm sorry," she said, with a smile, then she took a deep breath. She held it as he reached up to hold her face, the song fading away for them both._

 _"Don't be," he said gently, searching her eyes. He took a deep breath of his own, knowing this wasn't really the time or place to say what he suddenly wanted to say. He said it anyway._

 _"I can't go back to living without you," he said, tears filling his eyes, "and I don't want you to feel…insecure in any way, ever again."_

 _Monica started to let little puffs of air escape her lips as her heart started to beat rapidly. She felt his thumbs begin to run over her cheeks._

 _"Mon," he said gently as the song came to an end. "I know this isn't the right time or the right place to ask you this, but…"_

 _"Yes," she gasped out, jumping excitedly over the question that she knew was on his quivering lips. After a startled moment, he gave her his lopsided grin._

 _"You don't know what I…"_

 _"Yes, I do!" she said, her face breaking into a big smile._

 _"Good Lord, woman, would you at least let me ask?" he said, half-scolding, half-chuckling. Monica put a hand over her mouth, her face turning pink._

 _"I've been waiting a long time," she said uncapping her mouth then quickly capping it again. Chandler almost melted at how adorable she looked._

 _"Oh baby, I know," he said, grinning at her, his eyes sparkling at hers. Then he gently moved her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm before placing it on his shoulder. He leaned in to kiss the smile on her lips then softly laid his forehead against hers. Monica closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck as he placed his hands on her hips, both of them moving vaguely in time with the next 80s classic filling the room._

 _"Monica," he whispered, his eyes closed as he soaked up the moment in his heart, "will you marry me?"_

 _He peeked at her with one eye when she didn't say a word. Her eyes were also closed and brimming with tears, soaking in the moment, too. Monica took a deep gasping breath as she pulled back, took his face in her hands and opened her watery eyes._

 _"Of course I'll marry you," she said breathlessly as she watched a wide smile break over his face, her heart so full she thought it would burst. She smiled back at him just as wide._

 _"Yes, I'll marry you..."_

 _Plans were quickly put into motion for a June wedding, exactly one year to the day Javu opened. Not a single person held back their tears, least of all the bride and groom as they said their vows. And it wasn't long after that when they decided to start a family…_

"Daddy?" 5-year-old Rosie asked as she pulled another piece of paper out of a hastily packed cardboard box. She, her Dad and Uncle Ross, were putting up her art masterpieces in her new room. "Who did this one?"

Chandler knelt down next to his red-haired, blue-eyed daughter and caught a corner of the paper between his fingers. His eyes softened a touch as he looked at the old, worn piece of white paper and the picture on it.

"A little girl named Hallie drew that for me a long time ago," he explained, pointing to the people in the drawing. "She was about your age then. That's her sister, Sadie, and her mom, Felicia. Her mom and I were, ah, friends when I lived in California."

Rosie nodded, her pigtails brushing against Chandler's cheek. "What's that?"

"That's the Golden Gate Bridge," Chandler said. "It's a huge bridge in San Francisco."

Rosie's blue eyes got even wider.

"Bigger than the Brook'n Bridge?" she asked.

"Yep," Chandler smiled, "even bigger."

"Wow," Rosie said, completely in awe. "Can we hang it, too? It's pretty."

"Oh, I don't know, Rose…" Chandler started, casting a glance at Ross.

"Please, Daddy?" Rosie asked again, in that little high-pitched voice Chandler had yet to learn to say "no" to. He smiled at his daughter's innocent face and nodded.

"Sure," he said, as he followed a now-gleeful Rose to the wall where she wanted to hang it. Monica and Chandler adopted Rose Marie Bing the day she was born almost nine months after they were married. Her birth mother, Roselynn, was the young teenager daughter of one of Monica's waiters at Javu. She didn't want to keep the baby, but the girl's mother was scared to put the child up for adoption to an unknown family. The waiter knew of Monica and Chandler's struggle to adopt. Agreements were made, legal proceedings began, and the rest was history.

"Chandler? Rosie?" Monica said as she came to the bedroom doorway, their son, 3-year-old Evan, on her hip. She smiled. "Jessica's here."

Rose and Chandler smiled at each other.

"I'll finish this," Ross said, looking around the room. Then he patted Chandler on the shoulder and gave him a grin. Chandler and Rosie walked to Monica and Evan. Evan reached out his arms to his Dad and Monica handed him to Chandler as she took Rosie's hand in hers, all of them wearing smiles on their faces. Rachel, who had been standing in the hall, reached up and kissed Chandler's cheek, ruffling Evan's hair and then gave Rosie a brief hug.

"Yay!" she said quietly, with an excited smile, shaking her jazz hands in excitement. Then she smiled at Ross as she walked over to help him in the bedroom as Chandler, Monica and their kids made their way to the front foyer.

Jessica was their social worker. She had been instrumental in placing the brown-haired, brown-eyed Evan into the Bing family through the foster care system more than two years prior. At the time he was a seven-month-old left orphaned when his parents died, leaving no family to care for him. She'd temporarily placed him with the Bings, but their temporary foster-parent status didn't last long and he officially became their son about a year ago.

Monica and Chandler knew they'd have to build their family in an unconventional way, but even Jessica had to admit that there was some sort of magic happening with the Bings. When a child needed a home, they opened their hearts and their arms and, somehow, someway everything seemed to work out.

They were all confident this time it would, too.

"Hi Jessica," Monica said as she shook the woman's hand, her eyes never leaving the little, African-American girl by the woman's side. She was just a couple months younger than Evan, and had been in a similar situation as he had. Chandler and Monica had been preparing the kids for her arrival for the last couple weeks. They knew there would be an adjustment period, but when Jessica called, they both agreed they weren't going to say "no."

"Jasmine," Monica said kneeling down then gently putting her hand on the little one's shoulder as Rose smiled at the girl she instantly considered a sister. Jasmine smiled bashfully at Monica.

"Welcome to your new home," Monica said softly as Chandler knelt down beside his girls, setting Evan against his knee, his son putting his small arm around his father's shoulders.

"This is Rose," Monica said, gesturing to her daughter then her son, "and this is Evan."

Both Bing children smiled and waved somewhat shyly at the new person at their door. Monica grinned at Jessica, who was now kneeling by Jasmine. She nodded and smiled back at Monica. Monica then looked at her husband, tears in her eyes and heart on her sleeve. She smiled at him, and he smiled back at her, his own eyes watery and full of love.

The little girl's wide, dark eyes looked from one person to another, a larger smile playing on her lips as she clutched her teddy bear tight in her little arms. Her eyes caught Chandler's and he saw the twinkle in them. His smile grew wider as he reached out a hand to the toddler and she took it without hesitation.

"Jasmine, I'm Chandler," he said softly, then giving her little hand a gentle squeeze as her smile widened he added,

"Hello."

THE END

 _ **NOTE: And there you go…**_

 _ **Unfortunately this took**_ **a lot** _**longer to post than I expected it to, but at least it's all posted! In about 4 years I'll have another one, when Adele puts out "29" I guess. Ha! Thank you, Adele, for the inspiration. What an exquisite album…**_

 _ **The song mentioned here is an 80s throw-back - "Baby Come to Me by Pattie Austin and James Ingram. I was obsessed with it when I was younger and recently heard it again. Thought it fit pretty well. Google it if you'd like :)**_

 _ **I wanted to let you know I'm not done writing Mondler just yet. There is one in-canon story that's been nagging me since, oh, long about the time I wrote "TOW I Love You" a million moons ago. I'm working on that one - about four chapters are done so far. And then there's "Seasons Change" which I impulse-posted before I had the whole plot figured out. Why? God only knows, but bear with me on that one. It's definitely taken shape now, but updates will be very slow.**_

 _ **Thank you always for your reviews and support for these crazy little stories that come out of my head. Always, thank you.**_

 _ **Finally, a huge "thank you" for your favs, follows, reviews and support of this endeavor, rather**_ **especially** _**for this endeavor at this particular time. Deeply heartfelt gratitude also goes to those of you who PM'd me on here or DM'd me on Twitter with your words of kindness over the course of this story. It was (is) appreciated more than you know. For so, so many reasons - thank you.**_

 _ **Kel**_

 _ **PS: As I referenced in an earlier chapter - and some very adept readers caught early on - here's "my final" quote from the "Gift of the Magi"…**_

 _ **"And here I have lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish (people)…who most unwisely sacrificed for each other their greatest treasures…but in a last word to the wise…let it be said that of all who give gifts, these two were the wisest..."**_

 _ **True love, after all, is the greatest treasure of all… :)**_


End file.
